The Boy Who Lived
by becks89
Summary: Voldemort chose Neville as his equal and because of that, the wizard world has fallen. Hermione is a slave in the school for Voldemort, but times are changing, and she needs to get out. But after a time of hardship, can she learn to love Draco?
1. The Boy Who Lived

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Summary:  What would of happened if Harry had never been born and Neville was chosen by Voldemort instead?  Story about Hermione and her fight against her evil.

I have to shout out to Sam-453 cos she was the one who gave me the idea.  So this harry never been born thing is completely hers, im just developing the idea and stuff, so everything else is mine.  Thanks franny!

I don't know if I will continue this, so if you want me to, please review and tell me.

On with the fic…

It was cold in here.  Cold and dark with evil seeping into the room so tangible that Hermione was almost choking on it.  But this was no change for her.  Hermione had been living like this for almost four years now, so she was used to the cold.  Used to the sobs of the surrounding girls on the floor.  Used to the screams of pain from the dungeons below.

She had read once in _A Hogwarts, a History_ that the school was supposed to be warm filled with happy students.  Friendly teachers and children laughing and playing Quidditch.  Love.  She had read about love once, she had read about all these things.  But she knew that it wasn't true.  It was so long ago when she had been loved.  It was so long ago when she had truly been happy.  She could not remember it now.  It seemed to be like one of those stories that she used to steal from the school library.  Fiction.  Lies.

Hermione couldn't remember much about her childhood, with her parents.  That's what the Cruciatus curse did to you when you had had it directed at you hundreds of times.  That was what being around hundreds of Dementors everyday did to you.  It sucked out every happy thought she had ever had, every pleasant memory, every nice feeling.  But Hermione was strong.  She hadn't given up all her memories to the Dementors.  She had one left.  It was just her and her mother.  Hermione was about seven years old, and she was being pushed on a swing by her mother.  They were laughing and having a fun time, when Hermione's mother had stopped pushing her, and had frozen still for just a few moments.  Alarmed, Hermione had asked what was wrong, and as if she was in a daze, her mother had answered in a flat tone of voice.

"Even if they hurt you, do not be afraid to forgive and forget Hermione."

And then her mother had held her close, and Hermione had felt so loved and so warm at that moment, that she did not even care to think about why her mother had said such a thing.  Her parents were dead now, killed by the Master.

"Hermione?"  Whispered a timid voice next to her.  Hermione snapped out of her daze and smiled at the girl.  She was only twelve, one of the youngest slaves at the school.

"What's wrong?"  Hermione asked.  The girl bit her lip, and pushed up her torn and dirty sleeve to reveal a large purple bruise surrounding a deep gash.  "Don't touch it, if you leave it, it will get better, okay Daisy?"  Hermione whispered, blowing softly on the wound.  Daisy nodded and rested her head back down on the cold concrete floor.

"Will you be quiet?  Goyle might come up any moment now and punish us!"  Another girl hissed from across the room.  Hermione nodded quickly, the last time she wanted was Goyle punishing them.  His punishments were always painful, but not as painful as Malfoy's, or the Master's himself.

Voldemort.

They had to call him master, otherwise the slaves would get a severe punishment, probably two or three doses of the Cruciatus Curse.  One girl two months ago had talked out of turn and Voldemort had killed her right on the spot.  She was only eleven years old.

Hermione had always tried to keep out of Voldemort's way, now that he had his body, he was free to walk about, hissing at the slaves as they scurried past.  But unfortunately, Hermione was Voldemort's favourite slave, and she had to do almost everything for him.  The only reason why she was his favourite slave was because she had tried to get the Philosopher's stone with Neville in their third year.

Neville.

The boy who lived.

Who was locked away in the deepest dungeon, where he was abused daily by Voldemort himself.  When Neville was a year old, Voldemort had come to his home, and had killed his parents and had tried to kill Neville.  But the curse did not work and instead wounded Voldemort.  Because of the curse, Neville had a large lightening bolt scar on his forehead.  Voldemort had fled far away that night, never to be seen again until Neville's first year.  Hermione's first year.  The two had quickly become friends, and once they had found out about the stone, they had tried to get to it before Voldemort.  But Voldemort reached it first and had taken it.  With the stone, he was free to do anything.  He had taken over Hogwarts, he had killed Dumbledore and he had taken over the Ministry.  The wizarding world had fallen in a matter of months and all the mudblood girls had been kidnapped and were forced to work as slaves.  Prisoners of Azkaban ran free.  Hermione's fellow Gryffindors were dead.  Ron was dead.  Seamus and Dean were dead.  Lavender was dead.  Parvati was a slave with Hermione and together, all the slaves lived in the Gryffindor tower.  Except the tower was not comfortable and warm.  It had been stripped of all furniture and the Death Eaters had piled in two hundred mudblood slaves in the tower.  

But the Slytherins were living in comfort on the other side of Hogwarts.  Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins were living in fancy warm beds and eating three meals a day, while the slaves only got one.

Hermione hated Malfoy.

Please review if you like how it's going!!


	2. A Slave's Work

Hi!  Sorry it took me so long to get another chapter out, but I guarantee you that it will take quicker next time, I promise!  Thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed, it means so much to me that you like it!  

Sorry about the ending for this chapter, it was late at night when I was writing this and I just wanted to get it finished so I just wrote any old thing.

Btw… none of its mine, Harry Potter belongs to J K Rowling

Sam-453- I'm finally updating!  Yay for me!  I am no man…lol.

Please review!

On with the fic…        

____

"Wake up you brats!"  A voice rang out in the room that woke up every slave.  They all quickly jumped up, wiping away the sleep from their eyes and moved quickly out of the room, to do their daily chores.  

Goyle was waiting for Hermione as she made her way over to him, her head bowed, hands clasped in front of her.

"Had good dreams?"  Goyle rasped sarcastically, a sick twisted smile on his face.  Hermione did not answer, if she did, and said no, her answer would satisfy Goyle.  If she said yes, then she would receive multiple beatings for answering back.  Neither answers seemed good enough.

Goyle led Hermione out of the room, Hermione casting a pitying look to Daisy who was watching her, cradling her arm which was a bloody purple mess.  Hermione gave her a small smile, knowing that the smile would keep Daisy alive through the day.  Daisy was young, her childhood was painful and she was a very fragile child.  Hermione had taken to Daisy the moment she had seen her two years ago, chains around her arms and legs on that cold morning.  Hermione had taken her under her wing, told her everything she needed to know to survive, and in turn, Daisy had given Hermione someone to care about, so her thoughts would not be filled by 'what ifs' and other painful things.

"You listening to me slave?"  Goyle said, snapping Hermione out of her reverie by grasping her limp hair and pulling it down so Hermione was forced to look at him.  Hermione nodded, wincing as Goyle pulled her hair down further, some of the hair separating from the roots.  "Good.  Now be gone, you bitch."  Hermione nodded, bowing slightly.  "And do not forget what I told you."  With that, Goyle swept through the corridor, his large black robe billowing behind him.  

Hermione leant against the wall, breathing fast, her eyes closed.  She knew what Goyle had told her, he told it to her every day.  'Do whatever the Master says, you step out of line and we lose the best slave we have.'  Once she had calmed down, she headed down to the kitchens, where she was greeted by more slaves, who nodded to her and smiled sympathetically.  Hermione collected the tray of food and hurried back out the kitchens and up to the old South Tower, where Voldemort's lair was.  Voldemort like for Hermione to serve his breakfast every morning, clean his room and do any other chore he wished, and like a good slave, Hermione obeyed.

"Oh look, it's the Dark Lord bitch."  A voice rang out as she crossed the entrance hall.  Hermione stopped in her tracks, sighing quietly.  She turned to face her bully, bowing down while balancing the tray on one hand.  "Can I help you with that, or are you OK?"  Her bully said nicely.  Hermione looked up sharply, her brown chocolate meeting cold silver ones.  "I was being sarcastic."  Draco Malfoy said coldly, his lips turned up into an evil smile.  Hermione nodded to him and waited till Draco and his friends had left the Entrance Hall.  She continued on her way, winging through the lonely corridors, a route to the South Tower that she knew off by heart, a route that struck fear in her heart as she thought about what would happen when she reached her destination.

Hermione continued on her way, drawing closer and closer to Voldemort's quarters.  She passed Sarah on her way there, wincing as she saw the large gash on Sarah's forehead.  Sarah was Lucius Malfoy's personal slave, and she was beaten regularly.  

Sarah continued on her way, as did Hermione.  Before she knew it, she had arrived at Voldemort's chambers, and the Dementors opened the door for her as she walked in.  

The room was decorated in black and silver, black velvet drapes hanging over the windows, letting no light filter through.  There was a large four poster bed in the corner, the frame decorated with jewels, the bedspread made with the finest silk.  The dresser was made of wood, the carpet soft under Hermione's feet and she almost forgot that a Dark Lord lived here.  Almost.

"My favourite slave," a voice hissed from the corner, "so nice to see you again."  Hermione placed the tray of food on the table and bowed low to Voldemort.  She gasped as a cold finger was placed under her chin, lifting her head to meet Voldemort's eye level.  "Sleep well my dear?"

Hermione nodded, "yes Master."

Voldemort smiled his face cracking as he did so, his features not used to this expression.  "Good.  I have lots for you to do today.  You'll be busy, my pet."  Hermione nodded again.  There was silence in the room.  "Are you not going to ask what I have in store for you?"

"What are my tasks today, Master?"  Hermione said through gritted teeth.

Voldemort smiled, moving away from Hermione and taking a sip of his tea.  "So kind of you to ask, my pet.  There has been word that there is one Auror left, and I am sending out Death Eaters to kill him.  I believe his name is James Potter, do you know of him?"  Voldemort asked.  Hermione shook her head, her hands shaking by her sides.   "Oh, well, his wife was a wretched mudblood.  Disgusting is it not?"  Hermione nodded her head again, she was like a robot, being controlled by Voldemort and she hated it.

"Disgusting bastard."  Hermione muttered under her breath.  Voldemort looked up sharply, eyeing her carefully.

He placed his cup of tea on the table and stood up from his chair.  "What did you say?"  He asked his voice cold as ice.

Hermione stood, rooted to the ground, shaking in fear and anger.  "N-Nothing."  She stammered.  Voldemort inched closer to her.

"I asked you a question, _slave_, now answer it!"  He shouted.

"I-I said nothing, master."  Said Hermione with her eyes on her feet.

Voldemort took out his wand from his robe pocket and pointed it to her, the tip touching her forehead.  "Tell me!"  He demanded, his face contorted in anger.

"I said that you are a disgusting bastard, master!"  As soon as those words left Hermione's lips, she felt an all too familiar feeling rush through her body.  She was thrown back against the wall and pain coursed through her veins, making her twist and squirm on the floor.  She gasped in agony, pursing her lips in an effort not to scream.  If she screamed or cried then Voldemort would win, and she did not want that.  But by closing her lips, it only made the pain worse and hit the bookstand, causing it the books to topple on top of her, the leather bound books bruising her body.  She whimpered, and as soon as she had done that, she knew it was a mistake.  The pain was gone, but she was shaking due to the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse.  But that was not what worried her.  She had let her master win, because she was not tough enough, and that was more painful than any curse they could throw at her.

Voldemort peered at her on the floor, his face twisted into a sick smile.  "That will teach you not to mouth back to me in the future."  Hermione whimpered again, causing Voldemort's eyes to brighten with pleasure.  "You will be polishing and getting the weapons ready for today's assignment.  Get the Death Eater's ready.  That will be all."

Voldemort turned away from her and sat down once again at the table, sipping his tea as if nothing had happened.  Hermione stood up weakly, replacing the books on the bookstand and bowing down to Voldemort before leaving the room.

Please review!


	3. Draco Malfoy

Hi everyone!  I hope you all had a good crimbo and a new year's eve!  I'm sorry I haven't updated for so long, it was just taking me a long time to write and stuff, cos I have my other fics as well, and I had a very busy crimbo.  But I've already got the next chapter written, and I plan to write the next one after I update!  So I'll be updating much quicker from now on!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Thanks go out to the people who reviewed!  I got a very nice one this morning, so that was what made me sit down and write!  Review=more updates!

I'm not planning this to be a big fic, not as big as Harry Potter and the Slayer is gonna be, so don't expect an epic.  But I am no where near finished, I have everything planned out though.

Please review!!!!

Two days after Hermione was beaten by her master, she was shaken awake by a Flint.  All the other slaves were asleep, but that did not stop Flint from shouting loudly to Hermione.  She stood up quickly, if she took longer, then Flint would wake up everyone, and the other girls needed their sleep.  

"Follow me."  Flint demanded, making him way through the slaves, stepping on fingers and other body pieces carelessly.  Hermione followed him, tip toeing around the slaves, even though her feet hurt from stepping on glass the day before.  Once they were out of the slaves quarters, Flint turned left, which was the opposite way from Voldemort's chambers.  Wordlessly, Hermione followed him, she could sense that Flint was angry, and she made sure not to lag behind too much otherwise he would get angry.

They continued down the gloomy corridors, the carpet black and the stoned wall were stained grey.  The portraits were empty; the occupants had fled long ago.  It was cold, and Hermione shivered, she was only wearing small thin robes, stained with blood and dirt.  They stopped off at the kitchen, Hermione collecting food and then they took off again.

"Master told you about that Auror?"  Flint asked, his voice low.  Hermione nodded yes, and Flint continued.  "Well, that Auror killed Lucius Malfoy."  

"O dear."  Hermione lied, inside, she was jumping for joy.

"Yes, well, now that Lucius Malfoy is dead, the Dark Lord has appointed a new right hand man.  He is to be trained in the Dark Arts and will join the Dark Lord when he is ready."  Flint said, turning a corner which led to the Slytherin tower.

"May I ask why you are telling me this?"  Hermione asked as politely and meekly as she could.  Flint stopped walking and turned to face her, a twisted grin on his face.

"Yes."  He growled.  "The Dark Lord has requested that you be the new Death-Eater's personal slave.  The Dark Lord has gotten bored of you, after what you did two days ago."  Hermione nodded, her head bowed.  Flint smiled again.  "Don't you want to know who your new master is?"  He teased.

"Yes sir."  

"Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's heart sank.  She hated Malfoy with a passion, and serving him would be hell.  He treated her like dirt every time he saw her, always calling her a mudblood or some other disgusting name.  Flint smiled, seeing Hermione's reaction.  He removed his hand from his robe and put his hand on Hermione's chin, tilting her head up to him.  His eyes glowed like a cat's and they searched at Hermione's chocolate ones.

"You're a pretty one."  He said, stroking her cheek.  Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself crying out, she felt disgusting and dirty having someone like him touch her.  "Such a shame you're a mudblood."  He spat, dropping his hand.  He continued on, veering right from the Slytherin tower.  Hermione rubbed her cheek, trying to get the invisible dirt off her face.  Realising that Flint had gone, she ran the way he went and caught up with him.  They walked down towards the dungeons, and Flint stopped opposite a painting of a man in black, his face covered, but his eyes glinting gold.  "Dragon."  Flint whispered to the painting.  It swung open and Hermione looked to Flint for permission to enter.  "Go on."  He said, he leaned closer, his mouth inches from her face, "Be good."  With that, he strode down the corridor, black robes billowing behind him, reminding Hermione of Snape. 

She sighed, bracing herself for what was to come.  She stepped through the hole and came through to a large room.  It was decorated in silver and green, the large four poster bed adorned with silver pillows and a soft green bedspread.  The carpet was warm and thick, there was a decorative fireplace in the corner, the green flames shining on the dark wooden walls.  The room was warm to the touch, but cold to the eye, chains and knives hung on the walls, a shiny Quidditch broom leaning against a forest green arm chair.  Malfoy sat at the small table, a delicate black quill in his hand, a box of tissues next to him.  His eyes were red and his hair dishevelled, and for a moment, Hermione's heart went out to him.  She knew what it was like to lose a parent; she lost both of her shortly after Voldemort came back into power.  

"Are you just going to stand there mudblood?"  Malfoy shouted, his voice ringing in the quiet.  Hermione's pity and sympathy disappeared immediately.  She bowed to him and placed the tray of food on the table.  She poured some tea in a small china cup and paused when it was time to add some sugar.

"How much sugar would you like, master?"  She muttered through gritted teeth.  _I can't believe this is happening._

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, her eyes locking with his.  They were beautiful, pools of silver, with so much depth and soul.  He also looked desperate, his eyes were longing for something, and Hermione was captured.  She had never really Looked at Malfoy before, never really looked into his eyes and seen what he really was.  He was different from the other Death-Eaters, from the other boys in this school.  She did not know what it was that separated Malfoy from the others, but at that moment, when she was looking into his eyes and he was looking into hers; she vowed to find out what.

Malfoy coughed awkwardly, his eyes moving from Hermione's to the tea cup.  "Three spoons, bitch."  He muttered.  Hermione nodded, shocked by how suddenly Malfoy had looked away, but she complied with Malfoy and stirred in three spoons of sugar into the cup.

"Anything else, master?"  Hermione asked, her head bowed.

"No, thank you, mudblood."  Was Malfoy's gruff answer.  Hermione nodded, and moved towards the door.  But before she left, she turned to Malfoy, and said something she thought she would never say to him.

"I'm sorry for your loss."  She whispered shyly, loud enough for Malfoy to hear.  His hand stopped moving, his tea cup inches away from his mouth.  He gazed at Hermione, a confused expression on his face.

"Thanks."  He muttered, his eyes not moving from Hermione's face, searching for an answer as to why she said that.

"I lost my parents a couple of years ago."  She said, inching closer to Malfoy.  _Why am I doing this?  _"It gets better, honestly."  She reassured, meeting Malfoy's gaze.

"I don't want sympathy."  He said roughly after a pause.  

"I know, it's just-"

"Did I tell you to talk?"  He demanded, his brows furrowed, his eyes blazing with anger.  

"I'm sorry." Hermione said, her head bowed again.

"Leave."  He responded, a lump forming in his throat.  Hermione nodded, and quickly bowed out of the room.  She shut the door to the room and leaned against the painting.

"You are such an idiot Hermione."  She scolded herself, before running down the corridor to finish off her other chores.

***

Malfoy's eyes were fixed on the spot Granger had just vacated, his tea cup still inches from his mouth.  _Why did she say that?  Why was she sympathizing with me?  Why are her eyes so soulful, so amazing? She's been through so much, but her eyes are still blazing with passion. _

He had been shocked when Hermione had said 'sorry for your loss'.  He thought that she wouldn't be the kind of person to say that, even if she was a slave or not.  No one had said that to him yet, all his friends had just voiced their thoughts on who was to be the next right-hand man of Voldemort's, and many of them had congratulated Malfoy when it was announced that he would be.  Not one had said sorry, or had reassured him that everything would be ok.  His mother did not seem sad, and when he had tried to talk to her about it, she had just brushed him off and said that it does not matter.

Malfoy had loved his father.  His father had been determined, passionate and strong, and when Malfoy was younger, he had looked up to his father, as any young boy would have.  Lucius Malfoy had trained and lectured Draco about being a Death-Eater, he had made sure that Malfoy would become one, and would become a faithful servant to Voldemort.  But sometimes, living with his father was hell.

Contrary to popular belief, Malfoy did not agree with most of Voldemort's views on Muggles and Muggle-borns.  He did believe that they were lower than pureblood wizards, but he did not agree with what Voldemort was doing to them.  Forcing the girls to work as slaves and killing all the men.  Malfoy had seen a lot of blood and torture in his short life, his father would let him come to the watch Voldemort torture a helpless muggle, or a mudblood.  He had seen and lived around this type of stuff from the moment he was born, his father and some Death-Eaters would take a weak muggle into the Malfoy manor and torture him, for fun.

Draco did not understand that, how his father and his friends could kill for fun.  It immoral, brutal and barbaric and Draco never wanted to do it.

It's a bit short, but the next chapter is much longer, and you get to see Malfoy and Hermione become nicer to each other…which is always a good thing! 

Here is a quick preview of the next chapter:

Malfoy nodded, looking into the fire, the green flames dancing.  "I was jealous."  He replied quietly.  "You had friends, friends that cared about you, even if it was the Weasel.  They did not like because of who you're father was or if you were wealthy.  They like you for you, even that wimp, Neville."  

"It's not like that with you?"  Hermione asked gently, aware that she was touching on an awkward and painful subject.

Malfoy shook his head.  "You know when my dad died?"  He asked, glancing at Hermione.  When she nodded, his gaze returned to the fire.  "Not one person said 'Sorry for your loss'.  Not one person asked how I was, not one person asked if I missed him.  All my friends were just happy that I was the new Right-hand man; no one even cared if I missed him.  Only you."  

Please review!!!


	4. Discussions

Disclaimer:  Harry Potter isn't mine, it belongs to J.K, but the character Daisy is mine.

Hi everyone!!! Look how quick I'm updating!!  I've written tons, and I've worked out it probably won't be longer than 11 or 12 chapters.  By the way, to warn people, it's going to get very sad soon, with lots of mean and horrible things happening.  So I'm warning you, it won't be sunshine and daisies for much longer, ok?  This is probably the one of the last, 'nice' chapters before things get dark.

I need help, I am in quite a fuddle (is that a word?) about what is going to happen at the end.  Does everyone want a happy ending with lots of happiness and no big character killage, or do people want a sad ending with a major character killing?  Please tell me I need your help on this, if the majority of people want happy, ill do happy, if majority want sad, ill do sad, ok?  

Ok, anyways…thanks for your reviews everyone!!! It means so much to me…but not meanie Sam-453 because you haven't even reviewed yet!!! And I ALWAYS review yours, and you get in such a big huff when I don't do it the minute you update…so the point is…you're a meanie.

For all those who aren't like Sam-453 and send me reviews…thanks so much!!! I love getting feedback on stories, it's very helpful, and a also a major boost to ones confidence!!!

On with the fic…

***

Hermione continued to serve Malfoy, and they did not mention what had happened.  She did not speak when she was not spoken to, and Malfoy made a point not to look into Hermione's eyes.  Things went on as normal at the school, but Hermione was shocked to hear that Daisy and Sarah were now Voldemort's personal slaves.  Now that Hermione was a slave to Malfoy, and the older Malfoy was dead, Voldemort had to have a slave, and, Flint told her that 'Voldemort had chosen someone close to you, so that it would hurt you terribly if something happened to her.'

Hermione hated to think that Daisy was only chosen because she was close to Hermione.  If something happened to Daisy…  

Hermione shuddered, the china on the tray she was carrying clinking together.  She entered Malfoy's room silently and placed his tray on the table were he sat, chewing on a quill.  She made his tea quietly, stirring in three spoons of sugar.  It was a week after she had been assigned to Malfoy, and she knew that he wanted quiet most of the time.  Malfoy sat, hunched over a long piece of parchment, several books out in front of him.  He sighed; frustrated by the essay he had to write.  He appeared oblivious to Hermione, but actually, he was keeping an eye on her while he was doing his essay.  His father had taught him how to do multiple things at once, and his father had also told him that he should always know what is going around him.  

Hermione rubbed her hands together, trying to get her hands warmer.  She moved behind Malfoy, and padded towards the fireplace which was currently holding a low blaze.  She pulled out her slave's wand and muttered a few words to get increase the fire.  Voldemort gave almost all the slaves a slave wand, a wand which only let you increase fire or transfigured brooms.  The actual work had to be done by the slaves, but they were allowed to use brooms and brushes and mops.  

"Bezoar, what the hell is a Bezoar?"  Malfoy muttered, his foot tapping against the table legs.

"It's a stone taken from the stomach of a goat.  A bezoar will counteract the majority of potions."  Hermione supplied, sounding as if she was reading from a text-book.  Malfoy stared at her, his eyes wide with shock.

"How did you know that?"  He asked.

Hermione smiled shyly.  "Any old books that the Death-Eaters don't want, they give to us."

Malfoy smirked.  "Oh yeah, I forgot, in our First Year, you were a bookworm, a know-it-all."  Hermione nodded, smiling.  

"That was what Ron called me." 

Malfoy nodded.  "What happened to Weasel?"  

Hermione's smile dropped, and she bowed her head, tears forming in her eyes.  "He's dead."  She choked, brushing away her tears.

Malfoy nodded an undistinguishable feeling in his chest.  "I'm sorry."  He whispered.

Hermione smiled wryly.  "It was a long time ago.  But thank you."  She added.  She blew on her hands again and rubbed them, trying to get them warm.  Malfoy saw this and took her hands in his.

"You're so thin."  He commented, fingering her bony hands.

"They don't feed us much."  Hermione whispered, her hands revelling in his warm touch.  

"Come."  He said simply, putting a piece of bread on a plate and giving it to Hermione.  He took the tea that she had made him and gave it to her also, ushering her onto a seat next to the fire.  Hermione obliged, looking upon Malfoy with wonder.  He strode quickly over to his couch and grabbed a silver blanket from it.  Carefully, making sure not to spill the tea, he wrapped the blanket around Hermione's tiny frame, tucking the ends underneath her.  Catching her look, he smiled.  "What?  You think I don't have a heart?" He joked, sitting back down on his seat and writing down what Hermione had said about the bezoar.

"Yes."  Hermione whispered.  Malfoy looked up sharply, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in a week.  

"I used to admire you."  He said bluntly, not moving his eyes away from Hermione's.

"Why?"  She asked, sipping her tea, the hot liquid warming her body.

"You were so clever in our First Year.  You're head was screwed on right, and you knew what was right and what was wrong.  You were confident, you weren't afraid to tell people were they were with you.  Well, everyone apart from the teachers of course."  Malfoy added with a smile.  

"I didn't know you noticed."  Hermione responded, surprised that he had. 

Malfoy nodded, looking into the fire, the green flames dancing.  "I was jealous."  He replied quietly.  "You had friends, friends that cared about you, even if it was the Weasel.  They did not like because of who you're father was or if you were wealthy.  They liked you for you, even that wimp, Neville."  

"It's not like that with you?"  Hermione asked gently, aware that she was touching on an awkward and painful subject.

Malfoy shook his head.  "You know when my dad died?"  He asked, glancing at Hermione.  When she nodded, his gaze returned to the fire.  "Not one person said 'Sorry for your loss'.  Not one person asked how I was, not one person asked if I missed him.  All my friends were just happy that I was the new Right-hand man; no one even cared if I missed him.  Only you."  Malfoy's eyes flickered up to Hermione's again, and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

"Are you missing him?"  She asked delicately, biting some of the bread.

"Terribly.  He was my father, and he was a bastard, he hit girls, he killed people for fun, but I loved him."  

"Don't you think that killing people is fun?"  Hermione said through gritted teeth, finding it sick that people could think that.

"No."  

"But-"

"I'm the Dark Lord's important man, I know, but I don't.  I don't want to be his important man, I don't want to be a Death-Eater, and I don't want to kill people for fun.  I don't agree with what my father did.  I hate Voldemort."  He shouted, banging his fist on the table.  Hermione jerked, and moved further back into the chair.  Malfoy, seeing what Hermione was doing, apologized.  The pair was quiet for a while, Malfoy's interest returned to his essay and Hermione sipped her tea.

She had had no idea Malfoy had felt this way; she had just assumed that everyone at this school agreed with what Voldemort was doing. 

"What was it like?"  She asked.  

"What was what like?"  Malfoy replied, his head bent over his essay.

"What was it like living with Malfoy, master?" She responded.  Malfoy paused, hand poised in mid-sentence.

"Ok, I guess."  He said quietly.  "Parties galore, expensive food, nice clothes, luxurious holidays.  Everything I wanted I got."  Malfoy returned to his essay.

"No I meant-"

"What was it like serving the Dark Lord?"  He interrupted.  Hermione paused, _why didn't he talk about his life with his father? _

Hermione decided not to press it.  "Hell."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Am I better?"  Malfoy joked.

"You don't beat me, so that's a point to you."  Hermione replied, a small smile on her face.  Malfoy looked up sharply, dropping his quill on the parchment.

"He beat you?"  He asked, shocked.

Hermione nodded.  "How did you not know?  All Death Eaters do, so Voldemort obviously would be the worst."

"How often?  Monthly?"

"Daily."

"Shite."  Malfoy swore, a pitying look on his face.

"It's not a big deal.  You're father did it."  Hermione said uncomfortably.  Malfoy looked horrified and he left his chair and dropped to his knees in front of her.

"It IS a big deal, Granger. He shouldn't do that.  My father shouldn't have done it.  Not to you."

"He's Lord Voldemort, master, he can do anything."  Hermione said, stunned at Malfoy's reaction.

"Couldn't you stand up to him?"  He argued, his eyes desperate.

"More beatings, he uses the Cruciatus curse, and he does it for a long time."  Hermione replied, shuddering as she remembered how many times she had been under the Cruciatus Curse.  "Why would you care if he beat me anyways?  Why do you want to look after me?"  Hermione said roughly.

Malfoy looked up to her, his silver eyes locking with hers.  His eyes were filled with longing and sadness, and when he spoke, he sounded desperate.  "Someone has to."  Hermione just gazed at him, surprise in her eyes.  Malfoy smiled at her, his whole face lighting up, making him looking handsome.  "Someone has to stand up to him, Granger!"  He continued, voice hard, a wall shielding the sadness and longing in his eyes, making it only anxious.

Hermione quickly got over the abrupt change and chuckled.  "And I suppose you're the one to do it?"  

Malfoy slunk back to his chair, looking defeated.  "No, I won't."  He whispered.

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears as she took in Malfoy, his crushed stature, his desperate face.  "I should go."  Hermione placed the empty tea cup and plate onto the tray and folded the blanket.  Malfoy nodded wordlessly, it seemed as if his whole world had fallen and he had been revealed to a whole new one. 

Before she reached the door, carrying the tray rid of food, she turned around to face Malfoy, just as she had done a week ago.  "Thank you master."  She said, breaking the silence.  She turned around again, making to leave the door, when Malfoy's voice interrupted her.

"Draco.  Call me Draco."  Hermione, her back still facing Malfoy, disappeared through the door, a large smile on her face which mirrored Draco's. 

Aww.  Please review!!!


	5. Torture

Hi everyone, sorry I took so long updating but please don't give up on me?!?!  

Thank you all for the reviews, I appreciate every single one of them.

On with the fic…

It was late at night in the Gryffindor tower.  All the slaves were asleep, most of them huddling together to get warm.  Occasionally, you could hear the odd sniffle from one of the girls, or a quiet sound of someone crying.  Hermione lay on a cold stone floor, tossing and turning in an effort to get comfortable.

"Hermione?"  

"Yes Daisy?"

"D-did the Dark Lord always b-b-beat you?"  Hermione twisted her body to look at Daisy.  She was trembling, her bottom lip quivering and her fingers were blue.

"Shit, what happened to you?"  Hermione asked, concerned.  She grabbed Daisy's fingers and rubbed them together with her own, trying to get some warmth into her friends body.

"I-It was so s-scary, mum."  Daisy stuttered.  A small tear slid down Daisy's cheek, and Hermione pulled her young friend into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly in an effort to get Daisy to calm down.  

"Hush, don't worry, I'm here for you."  Hermione comforted.

"I d-don't know how y-you could stand it."  Daisy choked through sobs.

"It takes time Daisy, you'll get through it."  Now Sarah and Parvati were awake, huddling around the pair.

"Is she ok, mum?"  Sarah asked, her hand grasping Daisy's.  

Hermione shook her head.  "What did that bastard do to you today?"  

Sarah winced, and unconsciously touched her elbow.  She had been Lucius Malfoy's slave previously, so she was used to beatings, but Daisy had only been a kitchen slave in the past, so she was not used to frequent torture.  "Daisy dropped a cup of tea and it broke.  That bastard beat her and then beat me too."

"I didn't mean to, mum."  Daisy pleaded, her terrified watery blue eyes locking onto Hermione's.   "I didn't mean to."  She repeated.  Hermione nodded and squeezed her tighter, the girls huddling around each other and eventually falling asleep, their faces lined with worry.

***

"How is your new slave?"  Voldemort hissed, sitting on a golden throne in his office.  

"Fine, master."  Draco replied, his tone cold and emotionless, a tone that he normally took when speaking to other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord.

There was a knock at the door, and Voldemort called for the visitor to come in.  Avery swept in and bowed to Voldemort.

"What do you want?"  Voldemort demanded.

"The prisoner is trying to escape, master."  Avery responded, his head bowed.  

Voldemort growled and gripped the arm of his throne.  He took his wand from the table next to him and stood.  "Come Malfoy.  It is time for you to meet our most important prisoner."  Voldemort swept out of the room, followed closely by Draco and Avery.  "How far has he gotten?" 

"I believe he has not made it out of the dungeons yet, master."

Voldemort laughed, and evil, hollow laugh that chilled Draco to the bone.  "Fool."  Voldemort growled.  The three made their way down to the dungeons, and sure enough, when they arrived, the prisoner was being held by Death Eaters.  The prisoner was thin; Draco could see his bones through the dirt and bloodstained shirt and shorts he was wearing.  The prisoner looked up at Draco, and he was surprised to find that he looked about the same age as himself.  Floppy brown hair hung below his shoulders, matted and dirty.  His hazel eyes were lifeless, and Draco found himself looking away.

"Shall we kill him?"  Flint asked, casting a grin at Malfoy.  Malfoy felt sick.

"No you fool.  You cannot kill him even if you tried."  Voldemort snarled.  This piece of information caused Malfoy to look up at Voldemort, who was watching him curiously.

"What do you mean?"  

Voldemort's face twisted into a disgusting smile, and he cast a look back to the prisoner.  "There is a prophecy, Malfoy, that says only I can kill him and only he can kill me."  

"So why don't you kill him master?"  

Voldemort smiled even more, and Malfoy shuddered.  "Where's the fun in that?"  

He turned away from Malfoy and left, the Death Eater's following him after they had returned the prisoner to his cell.  Now the only people here were the prisoner and Malfoy.  A guard was outside.  Malfoy walked cautiously up to the cell occupied by the prisoner and placed his hands around the strong iron bars.  The prisoner was on the floor, his hair hanging over his head so Malfoy could not see his face, a large purple bruise surrounding blood visible on his back.  

Draco immediately felt sorry for the prisoner.  He had not done anything and he was here, wasting away in a dark and damp prison cell.  

"What's your name?"  Draco asked, trying to sound as nice as possible.

The boys head rose and Draco inhaled sharply.  There was a large cut on his face and his whole cheek was stained with blood.

"Neville Longbottom."

Thank you goes out to everyone who told me what kind of ending they wanted…I've decided to do a sad ending, because I think that will work out better for this story.

Please review!


	6. I'll Look After You

Hi everyone, sorry it's been a while, I will try and update sooner, I promise.  

Thanks for all your reviews, please keep them coming!

Yes I am a silly gal for giving away the ending…but…if I'm feeling up to it, I will post two endings, one happy one sad!  So everyone is happy, k?

Bekky-I know the change is fast, but things are happening fast, k?  I'm trying to make the change as gradual as I can, without dragging it out tons, because I never intended for this fic to be long.  I'm doing the best I can here; besides, Draco was not written by J.K Rowling to be nice to Hermione, was he?  (Sorry to break it to ya, but Hermione/Draco in the REAL books is never gonna happen.)

On with the fic….

Chapter 6.

"He's torturing Daisy!"  

Malfoy raised his eyebrows and smirked.  "Nice to see you too, Granger."  

Hermione huffed and set his tray of food on the table Draco was occupying.  She made the tea, put the plate of breakfast in front of him and huffed again.

"Now may I talk?"  She asked sarcastically.

"It was so nice and quiet before you came in, I'd prefer it if you didn't."  Malfoy said, his trademark grin on his face.  

  
"Draco Malfoy shut the fuck up; I'm trying to tell you something important!"  Hermione yelled, stamping her foot on the carpeted floor.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."  Was Draco's cheeky reply.  Hermione lunged forward, looking as if she was going to kill Draco.  Draco caught onto this and held her back, raising an eyebrow at her, making Hermione breath catch in her throat, that simple gesture made him look extremely sexy.  "Ok, talk."  He said simply, and released her.

Hermione nodded, gathering her breath.  "That bastard is torturing Daisy."

"Daisy?"

"She's another slave."  Hermione explained, shaking her head.  "The point is, she's only twelve and she's Voldemort's new slave!  And he's beating her!"  Malfoy's face fell, and Hermione sighed, sitting down on the chair opposite Draco.

"That's terrible."  Draco said sincerely, and Hermione nodded.

"I know, but what are we going to do about it?"

Malfoy arched a brow at Hermione in surprise.  "'We'?  There is no 'we'.  'We' are not doing anything; you can go ahead and get killed.  'We' are not doing anything."

"But-"

"When did you think that there was a 'we', Granger?"  Malfoy asked.

Hermione was completely confused and hurt.  _Why is Malfoy doing this? "Last week-"_

"Look, we can't do anything.  That bastard is in control of everything, if we try something, then it'll get us killed.  Stop worrying, she'll get through it.  You did."  Malfoy got a distant look on his face and he stared into the fire, something he seemed to be doing a lot lately.

"She's so young; she needs to be looked after."  Hermione said quietly, her hands fiddling with the tablecloth.

"Who looks after you?"  

Hermione blinked, the question was so out of the blue.  She thought about it, and the answer was-no one.  _No one looks after me, I look after everyone else.  Then something else popped into her mind, and she remembered that conversation she had with him a week ago, when he had asked to call him Draco.  _

"Last week, I asked why you cared, why you wanted to look after me."  Malfoy nodded, his gaze fixed on the blazing fire. "Why?"

Malfoy smiled, not a grin like he had done before, a small one, as if he was thinking about a well protected secret.  "You need looking after Granger."

Hermione snorted, and she crossed her arms defiantly.  "I do not."  She protested, but she ended up sounded like an insolent child.

Malfoy smirked.  "Yes you do.  I've seen you, all these years working for Voldemort.  You're so busy looking after others; you forget to look after yourself.  Look at you, you're skin and bones!  I bet you give some of your food to the other slaves, and you don't even realise that you, yourself, haven't got enough to eat."

"Even if I kept all the food I get for me, it still wouldn't be enough."  She informed Draco.  "Some one has to look after the slaves.  I'm one of the oldest; some one has to take a mother figure."  

"What happens if you die then?"  Draco demanded, his gaze now resting on Hermione, his eyes blazing like the fire.  "Who's going to look after the slaves then?"

Hermione was silent, she had never thought about that.  And Draco was right, she hated to admit it, but he was.  She was much thinner than the other girls because she gave most of her food away to the younger girls.  She did more work than the others because she persuaded them to give her their chores, so the other slaves had less to do and the chance of them being beaten was less.  Over the years, she had accumulated the nick name 'mum' because the moment they had become slaves for Voldemort, she had mothered everyone, made sure they ate right, took care of their wounds and soothed them when they were scared.  _Who makes sure I eat right?  Who soothes me when I'm scared?  No one.  _

"Who looks after you then?"  Hermione challenged.  Draco's head fell and Hermione felt bad for asking.  "I'm sorry."

Draco shook his head, some strands of blond hair falling from its place.  "It's alright Granger."

There was a short pause, and then:

"Why do you call me Granger?"  Draco looked up then, his silver eyes locking with hers.

"You never asked me to call you any different."  

"But, when you asked me to call you Draco, I assumed-"

"Never assume, Granger."  

Hermione paused; her eyes still locked with Draco's neither of them wanting to look away.  "Call me Hermione."  

Draco smiled and Hermione returned it.  _She looks so beautiful when she smiles.  _Draco thought.  _No Draco!  Bad thought, bad thought._

"I'll look after you Hermione."

Not much happening there, but things should move along more quickly now, I'll be introducing more characters (old ones [Padfoot, prongs :)]), and stuff not of the good will be happening to Daisy…

Please review!


	7. Daisy

Thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed…the romance will be coming soon (next chapter) so bear with me!

Please review!

Chapter 7.

It was three days since Voldemort had beaten Daisy and Sarah had covered for her for the past couple of days, but today, Daisy had to go back.  She walked alongside Sarah, her legs trembling as she walked, it was amazing that she could actually move.  Hermione and Parvati had given her advice this morning, and hugged her before they had gone off to their chores, Hermione to clean the Death Eater's bedrooms and Parvati to dust the shelves of potion bottles and books.  Sarah was walking next to Daisy, carrying the tray of food with one hand and holding Daisy's with the other, occasionally giving it a reassuring squeeze.

When they arrived at Voldemort's chamber, the guards grinned wickedly as if they knew something she did not.  A knot formed in her stomach.  She had a very bad feeling about today.

Daisy and Sarah entered the chamber together, and Voldemort was sitting at his desk, reading a letter.  He smiled nastily when they came in, and Daisy again felt bad about today.  Sarah placed the tray of food on the table and made the cups of tea.  Daisy brought the tea over to Voldemort, the cup clattering against the saucer because her hands were shaking so much.  Hot tea split onto the saucer, but Voldemort ignored it when Daisy had set the tea down on his desk.  She quickly joined Sarah by the door, and was about to bow and leave when:

"Stay."  Voldemort's voice hissed.  

Sarah and Daisy stood by the door, obeying Voldemort, when more bad news came.

"The little one is to stay; the older one is to go."  Sarah looked at Daisy, and Daisy stared back, her blue eyes watering.  'I'm sorry.'  Sarah mouthed and squeezed Daisy's hand, her own green eyes letting tears fall.  Sarah exited the room, and Daisy was left alone with Voldemort.

"Yes master?"  Daisy squeaked. 

"Why have you been absent the last few days?"  He growled, dragging a nail across the polished wooden table, the sound of it screeching making Daisy's skin crawl.

"I have not been feeling well master."  She replied quietly, avoiding her master's gaze.

Voldemort chuckled, his voice sounding empty and hollow.  "Is that a correct and worthy excuse?"

Daisy's eyes flickered up to meet his, and the moment she did that, she knew it was a mistake.  His eyes were cold and expressionless, black as the night.  There was a fireplace next to him, the flames burning brightly, but the light was not reflected in his eyes, and Daisy was sure that if she stood there, the light would reflect in her eyes.  

"You dare to look at me, lowly _slave."  He snarled, removing a long slender wand from a drawer.  Daisy cringed in fear, and Voldemort smiled wickedly.  "You're scared, little girl?"  _

_Don't say yes, don't satisfy him._  She told herself, boldly straightening up, even though she felt like she could collapse because she was so nervous.

"Answer me!"  He demanded, inching closer with his wand.

_Do what Hermione does, don't satisfy him, do what mum says to do.  _

Daisy shut her eyes tightly, the sight of Voldemort inching closer to her with an evil grin on his face scaring her more than anything she had ever seen before.

"Open your eyes, mudblood."  Daisy obeyed and opening her eyes, gasping when she found that Voldemort was looking right back at her, inches away from her.

"I'm sorry!"  She shouted, trying to save herself.

"Crucio."  

With a flick of his wand, Daisy was in the most excruciating pain she had ever been in.  She fell to the floor, her body weak.  _Don't cry, don't cry.  _She thought to herself as she squirmed on the floor.  But it was so hard not to, Daisy found.  She was in so much pain that she had bit down on her tongue hard, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth and choking her.  She dug her nails into her skin unintentionally.  _Don't cry…__Make it stop…please make it stop…don't cry._

"Your nothing, slave.  You're a filthy, unworthy, waste of air and space."  Voldemort's cruel words filled Daisy's mind, but she desperately tried to push them away, repeating to herself, don't cry.  "No one cares, mudblood.  _No one.__  When I killed your parents, they didn't even put up a fight.  They gave up, they had nothing to live for, but you were in the next room.  They didn't care."_

_No, they cared…they did…did they?  Don't cry Daisy, don't cry._

"You think that's pain little girl?  That's nothing; I have more pain for you."  Daisy inwardly screamed as the pain grew, starting at her feet and rushing through her veins as if it was blood, pain coursing through her body until she could think about was the pain.  "Go on, cry little girl, scream, cry out."  Voldemort's voice taunted her and she brought her legs up to her chin and covered her ears with her hands, the pain flowing freely in them.  

_Don't cry, don't cry._

"Cry out little girl, cry out."  

Every inch of her body wanted her to cry, but her mind was desperately saying to not to, with that simple gesture, Voldemort would be in control.  

_Don't cry, don't cry._

"Cry little girl."

_I'm sorry Hermione.  _Daisy let out a blood curdling scream, letting all the pain she was feeling out into the scream.  Tears fell freely from her blue eyes, forming pools on the floor.  She screamed and cried until she thought of nothing else, until her throat was hoarse and her head ached.  If her eyes were open, she would have seen Voldemort's satisfied smile, she would have seen the flick of the wand and those terrifying, but releasing words leave his lips.

"Avada Kedavra."

_I'm sorry Hermione._

Aww…poor Daisy…please review!


	8. Discovery

This is it…the chapter you have all been waiting for!  (hopefully).

Please review!

Chapter 8.

It was late afternoon and Hermione returned to the Gryffindor tower where she was greeted by a frantic Sarah.  Her brown limp hair was strewn over her face, sticking to it because of sweat and grime.  Sarah was wringing her hands and looked absolutely terrified.  Hermione took her over to where she normally slept and sat her down on the cold floor, taking Sarah's equally cold and clammy hands into hers and squeezing them gently.

"What's wrong Sarah?"  Hermione asked, concerned as to what Sarah was so worried about.

"Daisy…Voldemort…so long…alone…scared-"Sarah babbled.

"Whoa, Sarah, calm down."  Hermione interrupted.  Sarah was immediately quiet. "Take a deep breath."  Sarah sucked in so much breath that it made a noise as it was sucked inside her lungs.  "Start from the beginning and say it slowly."

Sarah nodded and started again.  "We went to Voldemort's chambers, but then he asked for me to leave, and for Daisy to say, so I left, and that was hours ago!  Hermione, Daisy was so scared!  I'm so worried."  Sarah broke into tears, but Hermione did not comfort her.  Hermione's gaze was fixed at the door way, her eyes watering and her mouth agape.  

"Slaves."  A voice hissed, getting the attention of the room.  The slaves turned to the source of the voice and bowed, the room was silent.  But the Hermione did not bow; she only glared at the Death Eaters in the room.   "Why do you not bow, slave?"  Crabbe growled.  The slaves turned to look at Hermione, and she could feel Sarah pulling down on her hand, but she did not bow.  

"What have you done?"  She asked, sounding as sinister as Crabbe had.

The Death Eater's smirked to themselves and Goyle untied a black bag he had been carrying.  He held it over the floor, and a petite body fell out.  

"No!"  Hermione screamed, running past the slaves and sliding on the floor in front of Daisy's limp body.  She turned the body over so Daisy's face was facing hers and felt for a pulse at her neck.  Finding none, she screamed with anguish and hugged Daisy's body, her eyes shut and her mouth blue.  "Why?  Why?"  Hermione sobbed, tears falling down her cheek, splashing on Daisy's porcelain face.  The slaves behind her were in shock, not only was she disobeying the Death-Eaters, she was _crying.  Hermione never cried, she was the strong one who soothed and comforted people who cried, __she never cried.  The Death Eater's smile grew at every sob and tear, and silently, after shooting an evil leer at Sarah, they left the Gryffindor tower, which was now cold and depressing because the usual silence was rocked by Hermione's cries._

"Hermione?"  Asked a young slave called Franny.  The young slave knelt down next to Hermione, her long black hair covering her back.  "Don't cry."  She said, rubbing Hermione's back.

Hermione only sobbed hardly and Franny looked helplessly back to the other slaves, all of them equally helpless as Franny was.  Hermione was supposed to be strong, their rock, their mom, and it was a completely new ordeal for Hermione to be crying.  

Hermione face was buried into Daisy's soft blonde hair, which fell down to the floor.  _Why?  Why Daisy, of all people why Daisy?  Hermione felt empty, everything had changed now.  All those other girls who had been killed before were never close to her, she had been sad for them of course, but she had just figured that this was the way things were.  It could not be any different.  But when the Death Eater's had walked into the Gryffindor tower, she had known something was wrong.  And when Daisy's limp and petite body had fallen to the floor with a thump, Hermione's vision had been clouded, blurred, she only saw Daisy and heard a maniacal laugh that she knew belonged to Voldemort.  She barely registered the Death Eater's leaving, Franny trying to soothe her by rubbing her back, Parvati and Sarah huddling around Hermione, trying to get her to stop crying.  She knew it was scaring them.  For someone as strong as her to be crying, to be giving in to Voldemort was terrifying the girls, but she didn't care._

_Why can't I be weak for once?  Why not me?  Why do _I _have to take care of everyone else when no one will take care of me?_

 Why?  Why this, why that?  Because she had taken this upon her self the moment Voldemort had forced them to be slaves.  _It's your fault that no one takes care of you, and it's your fault that Daisy is dead.  Remember __Flint__?  Remember?  It's your fault that Daisy is dead._

Hermione felt suffocated, she felt trapped and she dropped Daisy on the ground and ran, ran out of the Gryffindor tower, ignoring all of the calls behind her.  She took the back corridors that were used by slaves, she ran and she cried.  She cried for everything, for Daisy, for Ron, for Neville, for her parents and for all the people who were yet to die.  She cried and ran until she couldn't think, it was just a routine now, crying and running.  She didn't even know where she was going, her feet carried her to her unknown destination, blindly turning corners and skidding past rooms.  She didn't notice her surroundings, she didn't notice when she automatically said "Dragon" and she didn't notice when she flung herself in Draco's arms, burying her head in his robes, whispering "She's dead" over and over until she exhausted herself into a slumber.

***

When Hermione woke up, she did notice things.  For one, she was warm, which was the first time in several years that she had woken up warm.  She was also comfortable, which was also strange because she never comfortable when she was asleep.  Hermione raised her head and looked at her surroundings, recognizing the décor of the room.  She blushed and looked behind her.  Sure enough, there was the silky blond hair, the pale face, gorgeous features and muscular body that belonged to Draco Malfoy, son of the late Lucius Malfoy, the right-hand man of Lord Voldemort and her master.

She smiled; Draco looked so peaceful when he was asleep.  The sunlight streamed through the window and landed on his face, making him look absolutely adorable.

She carefully removed the silver blanket which was lying on top of her and placed it instead on Malfoy's body, which was coverless.  She swung her legs onto the floor and stood up, stretching as she did so.  She had been sleeping on an armchair, the same one that Malfoy had seated her on when he gave her tea.

She slowly crept towards the door, and was about to leave when:

"Are you alright?"  

Hermione whipped around and saw Malfoy, an arms length away from her.  She was surprised that she hadn't heard him move, but she pushed that thought away.

"Soon, I will be."  Hermione answered.  Malfoy nodded and took her by the hand, leading her to the armchair were they had both previously occupied.  Hermione did not protest, she was too weak for that, the running and crying she had done last night had exhausted her out completely.  Malfoy sat next to her, the armchair just big enough for two, and wrapped his strong arms around them.  Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the touch of his hand stroking her arm.  She knew this was wrong, that she was a slave and he was her master, but there was no harm in this.  He was only comforting her…right?

"You seemed pretty distressed last night.  Want to talk about it?"  He asked gently, his fingers trailing circles on her arm, causing shivers down her spine.

"They killed Daisy."  She whispered, but Malfoy heard her and stiffened.  

"Who?"

Hermione clenched her teeth and curled her fists.  "Voldemort."  She hissed.  Malfoy looked at her, taken back by how angry she was.  He took one of her hands and uncurled it, trying to make Hermione calm down.  But all it did was make her eyes tear, her anger disappearing and sadness and despair replacing it.

"Hey, don't cry."  Draco said, being extremely uncomfortable.  He had no experience of soothing a crying girl before, so he had no idea what to do.

"It's my entire fault."  She hissed, her fists clenched, tears falling down her cheeks furiously.  "If I hadn't been friends with her, than they wouldn't have picked her.  If only-"

"If only what?"  Draco asked quietly.  "If only you hadn't been nice to her?  If only you hadn't looked after her?"  Hermione nodded quietly.  "It was a good thing that you looked after her."

"But it got her killed."

"No.  In that bastard's eyes, everyone is the same, if it wasn't Daisy, it could have been someone else."

Hermione sniffed. "But it was Daisy."

"It wasn't your fault.  You can't let this get you down."  Draco sighed, looking into her eyes, a genuine hurt look on his face.  "I'm just glad it wasn't you."  

Hermione gasped, and he stared intently into her eyes.

"What are you saying?"  She breathed, trying desperately to look away, but she found she was held in his gaze.

"I'm glad it wasn't you." He repeated, and the small distance between their faces was closed as Draco kissed her.

Finally!  YAY!!  In with the romance!!

Please review.


	9. Aftermath

I am so so so sorry for the wait!  I completely lost track of time, I did not realise I had not updated for over month!  My apologies go out to everyone!

Thank you all for the reviews!  

Ok, finally we are getting on to the actual story part of the story.  This is where things are going to get more interesting folks!  *Grins* Just stick around, and we will get to finishing this, I promise.  I am not abandoning this; I am determined to finish it, I promise you I will.

Chapter 9.

Hermione had never been kissed before, hell; she hadn't had much contact with boys ever.  So when Draco kissed her, she had no idea what to do.  When she was younger, before she had come to Hogwarts, she had seen movies when this happened, when a boy kissed a girl.  And Hermione had always thought that she would never be in that position, she wasn't what the pretty type guys would like.

So when Draco kissed, her, she was in a state of shock.  For one, she had never been kissed before so she had no idea what to do with herself, and for another, this was Draco Malfoy.  The boy she had hated for so many years was kissing her.  

So why did it feel good?

It felt so natural, it felt as if Draco should be kissing her, and before she knew it, she was kissing back, running her hands through his hair, his arms tightly holding onto her waist.  They shifted on the chair so that Draco was on top of her, and they kissed passionately, Draco running his hands on her arms, raising them above her head.  He pulled at the dirty top she was wearing, and a little buzzer went off in Hermione's head.

This was Draco!  What the hell was she doing?  What the hell was he doing?  If someone caught them…

Oh hell, forget it.  Hermione didn't care if someone came in, and if she would be tortured for the rest of her living days.  All she cared about now was that Draco was on top of her, kissing her as if she was the only thing that mattered, touching her as if she was his.  And she wanted to be his.

But as soon as Draco had removed her top, her eyes fluttered open and she pushed him off her, grabbing her top and putting it hastily back on.  Draco sat on the floor, breathing deeply and a hurt look on his face.  Hermione tried desperately not to look at him, and ran to the door, pausing as she reached it.

"Stay away from me."  She said, before leaving the room.

***

Hermione clutched the piece of cloth around her shoulders, hugging the basket close to her.  She was on her way to Hogsmeade, walking down the slave's path to it.  The trees towered above her, shielding her from the light and warmth.  But Hermione didn't care; there was hardly any warmth to receive.  As she entered the town of Hogsmeade, bowing her head and trying to look invisible, her mind was on other things.

Other things, meaning that kiss.  Hermione unconsciously touched her lips, where Draco's lips had previously been before.  Why had he done it?  Was he playing games with her?  Making her feel like this, was it a game to him?  When Hermione had pushed him off her, she so desperately didn't want to, her heart was screaming not to, but her mind was saying that she had to.  She had to stop it before it got too late, before she fell for him.

But it was too late.  She had gone and fallen for him.  She was in love with Draco Malfoy.  But it had all happened so fast, the change she had seen in him had been quick, that it almost felt as if he hadn't changed, that he had been good all the time.  That he really liked her, even though he had acted horribly to her before.  She thought he had changed, but it was almost crystal clear to her now.  He hadn't needed to change.  Good was already inside him and everything else was a show.  

So did he like her then?  That was what Hermione was trying to figure out, because it felt like he did, the way he kissed her, it made her feel as if she was something special, as if he really wanted her.

"Maybe he kisses everyone like that."  She whispered to herself, touching her lips once more.

She turned a corner, down a dark alley and she hurried on.  She had work to do; and chores to complete.

But doing work had to wait, because as she turned another corner, leading to a narrow, even darker alley, she was grabbed around the waist and a hand covered her mouth.  

She was pulled back, and was thrust up against the wall, hands pinning down her arms and a hand covering her mouth.  She looked horrified up to her attacker, and she realised with a shock that there was three.  

The man who had pinned her up against the wall had long black hair, a thin face and dark black eyes.  He was dressed darkly, and his boots were covered in mud.

"Is anyone coming?"  The man hissed, and Hermione looked to the second man, trying to get free from his grasp, but couldn't.

The second man had light brown hair; strands of grey making him seem old. His robes were grey and old, dirt and blood stained on the material.  He was looking back at the alley Hermione had just come from, and appearing satisfied, he shook his head.

"No one is coming Padfoot."  The man replied, hurrying back to Hermione and 'Padfoot'.

Padfoot looked warily at Hermione, eyeing her distrustfully.  "Are you sure we can trust her, Moony?"  The last man, who was standing next to 'Padfoot' eyeing Hermione with distrust, grunted his agreement.  He had black hair that fell handsomely over his hazel eyes, which were framed with glasses.  He stood tall and thin, his robes were the muddiest of them all, and when he caught her looking at him, he frowned

Moony rolled his eyes and nodded.  "Of course we can Padfoot, Prongs, if she knew what was good for her."

Hermione eyed the three men, her legs were numb and she was trembling with fright.  She whimpered and closed her eyes. The three men looked at her, 'Moony' more kindly.

"Are you ok, miss?"  He asked kindly, and Hermione's eyes flew open, eyeing the men with astonishment.  "Let her go Padfoot."

"But-"

"Let her go.  She won't scream, will you?"  Moony addressed the last part to Hermione and she shook her head.  Padfoot dropped his arms and Hermione fell to the floor, looking up at the men.

"If I screamed, no one would come anyway."  She said, and the three men exchanged glances.  "Who are you?"

Moony bent down, and smiled.  "Remus Lupin, he is James Potter and that man is Sirius Black.  We work for the Order."

Short chapter, but things are going to get more interesting.  Please review!


	10. Making Plans

Chapter 10. Making Plans

"What do you want with me?" Hermione hissed, she couldn't recognize who they were, but she knew they were not Death Eaters. But she was prepared to be hostile.

"Your help." Sirius replied, dragging Hermione up by the arm.

"I don't understand."

"We are part of an organization, The Order of the Phoenix." Lupin started. "Dumbledore used to run it, but now…" He paused, swallowing as a grimace passed onto his face. "There are less now, only a few members left. Most of us have been killed. We have a plan, to get rid of Voldemort and we've watched you for quite some time. We need your help. Are you in?"

Hermione was disgusted that they had been watching her; annoyed that she hadn't known, and shocked that they had a plan to overthrow Voldemort.

"I'm in."

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"What's wrong with you Draco? You've been silent this whole day. It's not like you." Pansy Parkinson said, sitting next to Draco in the Slytherin Common room, her body closer to Draco's then he liked.

"Nothing." He said stubbornly, and Pansy sighed.

"I can make it better for you. Promise." She said seductively and Draco smirked.

"I doubt it. Let's get to DADA; Snape will kill us if we're late." He said, grabbing his satchel and leaving the common room, his fans following him.

His mind was on other things, and that other thing was Hermione and that kiss. He wanted to know why she pulled away, why she had left like that. That kiss had meant a lot to him, and he was terrified that it meant nothing to her. Because…damnit…because Draco Malfoy has fallen for the mudblood, Hermione Granger.

And speaking of Granger, Hermione was walking along the corridor, coming towards Draco and his friends. Her head was bent down, but Draco could see a tiny smile on her face as she walked with her basket. _Look up_ willed Draco, and indeed, she looked up and her eyes immediately caught Draco's, intentionally or not, Draco did not care. But she was looking at him, and her smile was beginning to fade. The two were walking closer now; Draco's friends behind him seemed unaware of Hermione walking to them, as they were talking amongst themselves. Hermione seemed to notice that also, so she smiled, and she had never looked more beautiful to Draco. And Draco was just about to smile back, but then:

"What are you smiling about slave?" Pansy hissed behind Draco, and Hermione's smile faltered. She had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, and Draco and his friends were blocking her way. She made no move to answer and Pansy growled. "Answer, mudblood." Still, Hermione gave no answer, her head was bent to the ground, and her gaze was fixed on her feet. Pansy sighed and nudged Draco. "Do something Malfoy."

Hermione looked up automatically, and Draco felt as if he could hit Pansy. What was he supposed to do? Tell the Slytherin why she really had been smiling, and then they would find out about the kiss? Or should he be spiteful to Hermione, keep the Slytherins happy, but make Hermione upset. What was he supposed to do? Hermione stared at him, as did Draco's friends, and Draco decided on what he should say.

"Move out of the way, mudblood, or I'll call the Dark Lord." He said, in the most cold and cruel tone he could manage. The Slytherins laughed behind him, but Hermione kept her gaze with Draco, her brown eyes shining with hurt. Making an 'o' shape with her mouth, she moved towards the wall and put her back to it, letting the Slytherins pass, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Draco's. The Slytherins disappeared down the corridor, not noticing that Draco had not moved, and their shouts vanished. Hermione glared at Draco and made to go, but Draco's hand on her arm stopped her. She looked up to him, a disgusted look on her face, and Draco's felt terrible. "Hermione." He said desperately, and she shrugged.

"I figured as much." She said simply.

"What do you mean?"

"You did not mean that kiss and we are back to being complete enemies with each other, am I right?" She asked angrily.

Draco shook his head desperately. "I meant it. I swear I did."

"So what was that all about?" She accused, and Draco shook his head again.

"I don't know." Hermione removed Draco's hand and continued down the corridor. "You can't expect me to be civil to you in front of them, can you?" Draco shouted after her, and Hermione paused.

"I don't expect you to be civil, but I would prefer it if you weren't so cruel, Mister Malfoy." She ran down the rest of the corridor, and Draco was left alone.

---------

"Sarah, can I speak to you for a moment?" Hermione asked at the end of the day in the slave's room. "You too Parvati." The two girls obliged and the three sat on the floor in a quiet area of the room.

Hermione thought it was best to forget about Draco from now on. After what had happened in the corridor, she was ready to push away her feelings for Draco, all her theories of what would happen after the kiss had come true, and she was not happy with the outcome. She had more important things to think about now, and she needed her full attention on it.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Asked Sarah, worried for her friend, thinking about the events that had happened yesterday, with Daisy.

"Nothing. In fact, I've never been better. You see, I've been visited by three very special people, Prongs, Padfoot and Moony, and they need our help."

-------------

"It's crazy." Sarah protested, and Hermione nodded.

"It is. But it's going to work, trust me on this."

Parvati shook her head. "How are we supposed to get everyone out of here? There are hundreds of slaves, and we're supposed to get them all out?"

Hermione sighed. It was a crazy plan, she agreed with her friends on that. But it was one of those times when a plan was so crazy, that it might work. "We can get outside help on this." Hermione said, and Parvati scoffed.

"Where?"

"Snape." She said quietly, and the two girls looked at her as if she was crazy.

"Snape?" Sarah repeated in shock. "Professor Snape?"

Hermione nodded. "It's the only way."

"Yes, I can see that happening. We talk to Snape, tell him our plan about destroying Voldemort and he turns us in. Great plan Hermione." Sarah said sarcastically.

"No, it's not that. Prongs told me that Professor Snape was a spy for the Order when Dumbledore was alive. When he died…Snape just went back to Voldemort, but he didn't tell him about the Order. Think about it…Voldemort would love to take out the only organization that could get close to stopping him. But Snape did not tell him…and I'm guessing that Snape is still good at heart."

Sarah shook her head. "Wait…I still don't like the sound of this. I mean, the plan…very crazy, but it could work. The only thing wrong is the Snape part. We can't trust him!" She hissed.

"I've explained it to you already, he is a good wizard. He was a spy for the Order and that has to count for something." Hermione argued.

"I don't know about this Hermione…it's just, a jump in the dark, y'know?" Parvati said, voicing both hers and Sarah's feelings.

Hermione shook her head, and put her hands up, silencing the girl's protests. "I'll be vague about it, I promise. If he is no longer a spy, only I will get in trouble, none of you will."

"You could be killed!" Sarah said in protest.

"It's better than living in this hell hole." Hermione said determinately. "In fact, I would rather die than spending any more time in here. We have nothing to lose, girls, because we've already lost everything else. We have nothing to lose."

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Very very sorry about the long wait. Won't happen again, I promise. I've written a lot of this story, and will get back to posting regularly.

Thanks as always to my reviewers who helped me get off my butt and write this thing. Especially Snazzysnez, shootingstar19, Selina and Sam-453 for badgering me about this. If they hadn't I probably wouldn't have updated till Christmas.

Oh and thanks to Angela, who left a smashing review about my smashing story. Note the sarcasm. I don't take flames seriously, so if you are thinking of leaving one, don't. Otherwise, flames will be used to melt my marshmallows. I like getting critism, just as long you aren't mean about my story, as I dedicate and spend a lot of time on my writing. So yeah. Thanks Angela.

I am thinking of changing the rating to R. If anyone has a problem this, please tell me and I won't, but if no one says anything, up the rating goes.

Please review!


	11. Different Kinds of Conversation

Chapter 11.

Hermione's heart was beating at an outrageously fast pace. Her hands were damp from sweat, and her teeth were chattering from being so nervous. Under her arms was a basket with a number of clean black and green sheets.

She was on her way to Snape's.

Sarah and Parvati had protested persistently since Hermione had told them of the plan, but Hermione had decided that she would risk everything, and confront Snape. He had always been mean and horrible to her, even when she had been in his class in her first year, but Hermione's hoped that what Padfoot, Moony and Prongs had said was true, Snape was still a spy.

She knocked on the door carefully, three short, sharp knocks, and waited patiently at the door. She heard footsteps on the cold, stone floor come towards the door, to her, and she took a deep breath. _This was it._

"Yes?" Snape asked, swinging the door open, glaring at her.

Hermione held up the basket meekly, and he rolled his eyes and returned to his work, leaving the door open. Hermione walked in quietly, and shut the door behind her. She made her way over to the perfectly made bed, taking in her surroundings- the bare walls and floor, the room was only furnished with a bed, a desk, a couple of bookshelves and a fireplace.

She stripped the sheets quickly and quietly, and made the bed as neatly and as quickly as she could. Snape worked diligently at the desk behind her, the scratch of the quill on the parchment the only noise in the bleak, cold room. When she had finished making the bed, she quietly tiptoed in front of Snape's desk, facing him as he worked, and bowed her head, waiting quietly.

After several minutes, he looked up, and sighed in annoyance. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

It was the first thing that she noticed-he called her 'Miss Granger'. All the other adults called her 'slave' or 'mudblood'. A tiny flicker of hope flared up inside her, and she looked up at him, and that flame suddenly dwindled, at the look on his face. The flame of hope was now a flame in the wind, and it was in danger of going out.

"Padfoot, Prongs and Moony give their regards, sir." Hermione said quietly, staring directly into his black eyes, something she could be killed or tortured for.

She saw what she was looking for.

That spark of familiarity flared up in his eyes, his eyes were no longer black and depressed and empty, but they were suddenly filled with hope.

"What do Padfoot, Prongs and Moony say?"

"Mad-eye and several others are alive, sir, and are awaiting your help."

He nodded, and stood up abruptly. Hermione took a timid step back. "Where did you see these three?"

"Hogsmeade, sir."

"Did they tell you how I may get in contact with them?"

"They said to use the phoenix, sir. I am not sure what that means."

Snape's eyebrows lifted high into his forehead, and he ignored Hermione's last comment. "Phoenix?" He muttered to himself, and he moved across the room, to a small cupboard near the floor. He bent down, his black robes pooling below him. He rummaged around in the cupboard for quite some time, searching for something.

At last, he emerged from the cupboard and strode forward towards Hermione, holding something in his palm. He took out his wand, and opened his hand, titling it so Hermione could see.

It was a beautiful silver phoenix in the model of Fawkes, Dumbledore's old phoenix. It had emerald eyes and the wings were spread out, each wing detailed so perfectly. Snape tapped the phoenix once, and whispered: _"__Phoenix__."_

The phoenix immediately took to life, flapping its beautiful wings and flying around Hermione and Snape's head. Under its tail rolled out a small magical map, shimmering in gold and red. Several red dots marked places on the map; however the largest dot was near a place labelled 'Hogsmeade'.

Snape studied it carefully, and then whispered _"Finite Incantatum."_

Spotting Hermione's curious look, he placed the now still phoenix in her hand, taking the basket from her.

"It was made before Voldemort came to power, by Albus Dumbledore, head of the Order of the Phoenix. He knew dark times were coming, and he created this. It gives the location of every living Phoenix member, to a person loyal to Albus. The phoenix and spell is bound to him. When Albus died, I thought the phoenix was destroyed with him. Apparently not."

"How is it still working?" Hermione asked, fingering the phoenix.

"Albus was very clever, a very powerful wizard. Even if I studied his works for several centuries, I would never understand how he managed to do some things. He was truly a spectacular wizard." There was a note of sadness in Snape's voice, and Hermione looked up at it. "I am glad they found you. You were a brilliant, clever witch when you were younger, before…everything. I know you will help us."

Hermione smiled at the first compliment she had ever received from Snape. "When will it happen?"

"The overthrow of the Dark Lord? Who knows? It may take months, maybe even a year. But secrecy is an issue here. You are now bound to the Order of the Phoenix, and you must do everything you can for its cause."

"I will."

"Good. Come back here in a few days, I will have more news."

------------------------

Hermione did indeed return to his office a few days later, and several times afterwards. Several weeks had past since she had first contact with Padfoot, Prongs and Moony, and she had several meetings after also. The planned overthrow of Voldemort was very complicated, there were very few left of the Order. However, several members of the Weasley family were still alive, and they themselves had formed a small group of a dozen people that they lived with in hiding. Ron, of course, was not part of this group, as was Percy, who had died in battle a few years ago, and George and Fred, who had been tortured to madness by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione had been kept busy, of course. As well as all of her regular slave duties, she had to tell all her fellow slaves about the plan to escape, one by one, so as not to draw attention to them. She was also meeting Prongs, Padfoot and Moony several times, as well as Snape. And, she was trying to avoid Malfoy.

It was easy in the beginning. Draco had thought that he would see her when she did her chores, but he would return to his room in the afternoon, finding the bed made and the room cleaned. From then on, he had stayed in his room as much as possible, trying to catch her, but Hermione decided to do her chores before he woke up, or while he was in a class. She had had several glimpses of him several times in the few weeks that passed, however she never stopped to say hello, and ignored him when he tried to catch her attention. However, she knew that the time would come when they would meet again, because Draco had not yet exercised his right to summon her at any moment.

He did however, while she was having lunch.

Flint strode into the room where the slaves ate, and pulled Hermione up roughly. "Your master needs you." He said, before leaving the room.

Hermione sighed inwardly, and hurried out of the room, towards Draco's quarters. Her stomach rumbled, she had not had much to eat. She pulled at the thin tendrils of her hair, pushing it back from her face. She tried to rub off as much dirt as possible from her face and hands. She rubbed her arms till they were red. But then, she arrived at the door, and paused, her hand poised for knocking. After a couple of seconds of deliberation, she knocked, and immediately, the door opened.

Draco stood in the frame, a relived look on his face, and he gestured for her to come in. She did so, her eyes averted down, her hands behind her back. She stood as far away from him as possible, and heard the door click shut.

"I didn't think you would come."

"I have to. I'm your slave." Was her firm reply.

Draco winced. "Don't call it that."

"That is what I am. I am yours for you to do whatever you want with…even for sex." Hermione said, her bottom lip trembling.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco said, shocked.

"It's true." Hermione said. "You can, did you know that? You can use me for whatever needs you possess."

"I need to see you; I don't need you to do anything else for me." Draco said angrily.

Hermione looked up, anger burning in her eyes. "But you needed something before, didn't you? You wanted it, and I obeyed, because I am your slave. That's what I have to do."

"Stop saying that!" Draco yelled angrily.

"Just do what you want with me, Draco. Just get it fucking over with."

"Fine!" Draco yelled angrily, striding towards her, and grabbing her left wrist roughly. He pulled her to him, their mouths meeting painfully. Draco devoured her in the kiss, forced open her mouth and invaded her with his tongue. She struggled, but Draco held her in place, he was stronger than she was. He bit down hard on her bottom lip, drawing blood, and Hermione whimpered in pain.

And then he stopped. He stepped back, and Hermione opened her eyes fearfully, to see him standing in front of her, ashamed. Hermione took a timid and hurried step back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the blood smearing on her skin.

"Hermione…" He said, his voice dry, strangled. Hermione looked at him through salty tears, and suddenly saw something different. Instead of the teenage, mature, arrogant boy, she saw a child- a frightened, ashamed child, who stared at her through truthfully sorrowful eyes.

She backed away from him, away from his hand that reached out to her, ignoring the pained look on his face. She licked her lips, hating the taste of her blood but coping with it anyway. She found herself up against a wall, and slid down it, placing her head on her knees as she cried.

"I don't know why I did that…" Draco said, pacing in front of her, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. He looked back at her, saw her crying, and knelt in front of her. Hermione ignored him. "I didn't mean to…I swear. Hermione, I'm so sorry. I just got angry, at what you said, about what I did a couple of weeks ago, about everything. Please, don't hate me, Hermione, please."

Hermione stopped crying, and looked up, not bothering to wipe her tears that soaked her clothes. "Don't hate you? Don't hate you?" Her voice shook with disgust. "I think it's too late for that, _master_." She stood up; Draco was frozen on the floor. "You had me fooled, did you know that? I thought you were different, I thought that you were _good_. But you're just like the others. You're just like your father." She spat, and walked past the frozen frame of Draco, and left the room.

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Thank you for all the reviews! I am so glad that some of you have stuck with this!!

As for the rating issue, the reason it is going up is because of the dark and adult themes that is coming up in the story. This story will have no smut in it, which I can guarantee you. (I just can't write things like that), but there will be some things in the future chapters that might not be nice for younger readers. Do tell me your thoughts about this.

Next chapter up soon, hopefully!!

Becks


	12. The Talk

Chapter 12. The Talk

Hermione blew softly on the cup of hot chocolate that warmed her hands, and then watched as the steam rose up into the air and disappeared. She took a small sip of her hot chocolate, the hot liquid warming her body that was covered in a thin layer of clothes and a blanket.

She sat in an abandoned house, and across the table at where she sat, where Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Professor Snape. The four men watched her curiously, and she felt dwarfed by their presence. She had not yet learnt the names of the three men; she only knew them by their nicknames. Moony was the nicest, if not a bit wearied and tired. Prongs and Padfoot were very handsome, but Padfoot was more violent and was not as trusting as the other two. Prongs was nice enough, he did not talk much, but stared into the distance, a saddened look on his face. Hermione got the feeling that he had lost someone dear to him, or several someone's.

He was doing it now, looking out of the window, at the rolling hills and the grey clouds overhead. Occasionally, he would run a hand through his hair, stop half way, look at his hand, and smile secretly to himself. He constantly fiddled with the wedding band on his finger.

Snape and Padfoot argued constantly. They did not get on at all, their mutual dislike was evident. However, they worked together well enough, and seemed to ignore their grudges when it was important. Prongs did not seem to like Snape either, and Snape returned the feeling. Moony was the referee in their arguments.

They weren't arguing now, they were watching Hermione as she drank. Padfoot especially kept staring at her lips, her bottom one which still bled from time to time. Snape's eyes were on the large purple bruise on her left wrist. Moony watched her through narrowed eyes.

Hermione placed the steaming cup of hot chocolate on the table, and coughed delicately. This brought the attention of Prongs, who immediately looked at her and asked if she was ill.

Hermione smiled, and said no. Prongs nodded, and smiled, in an almost fatherly way, and Hermione could not help but think that Prongs would be a really good father, if he had a child.

"Who gave that to you?" Padfoot asked, gesturing to the purple bruise. Snape and Moony let out a sigh of relief, glad that someone had asked.

"No one." Hermione lied, covering her wrist with the blanket they had given her.

Padfoot frowned, and glanced at Snape. "Who do you serve?" Snape asked thoughtfully.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Hermione said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Her voice shook, however, and Prongs laid a hand on hers. "Did he do that to you?"

"Does it matter?" Hermione said, indifferently. "I've had worse."

Three of them nodded, and looked away, as if they did not want to be reminded of that unpleasant fact. However, Moony continued to look at her thoughtfully. "It does matter to you." He concluded after much thought. "Because Malfoy matters to you."

Hermione shifted under the four men's gazes. "No he doesn't."

"Hermione, my dear, you aren't a particularly good liar." Moony said. "Not when your lying to people you know, anyway."

"He treated me normally. Like anybody would do to a slave." Hermione said bitterly.

"Draco Malfoy is a good kid." Snape said quietly. "He's different from the other children that I have taught."

"Different? How?" Hermione asked, interested.

Padfoot smirked.

"For one, he actually likes to learn. He pays more attention to the counter-curses than to when I teach about the actual, brutal, cruel curses. And two, he was never as cruel as the rest of them are. He's a good actor, I grant you that, but no one can disguise their true feelings when someone else is looking for it." Snape said, knowingly. "He had a lot of pressure on him from his father, but loved him anyway. When Lucius died, a burden had been taken off his shoulder, the pressure from his father had disappeared, but of course, that was instantly replaced by a larger amount of pressure, a bigger burden, from the Dark Lord."

Padfoot snorted. "He's still a Malfoy, above everything else."

"It's just a name, Padfoot." Moony said quietly, off Hermione's defeated look. "Look at you, look at what you did."

"What did he do?" Hermione asked, interested.

Padfoot sighed. "I don't like to talk about it-"

"Oh, sorry." Hermione said, apologetically.

"But perhaps he should." Prongs said, kindly.

Padfoot rolled his eyes and looked into Hermione's eyes. "My name is Sirius Black."

Hermione choked. "Black? You're a Black? But Black's were death Eaters!"

"Oh good, she's heard of me." Sirius said sarcastically. "My family were Death Eaters, and held the beliefs of similar to those of the Malfoy family. Purebloods are better than no other, so on and so forth. I, on the other hand, did not believe in such things. When I went to Hogwarts for the first time, I met Prongs, who belonged to a family of purebloods, but were not prejudiced against muggle borns and the like. I was sorted into Gryffindor, even though my family had all belonged to Slytherin. Well, they did not like where I had been sorted into, and who I had made friends with. They disowned me."

"I'm sorry." Hermione said, softly.

"Are you kidding?! It was the best thing that ever happened to me! Being stuck with family like that was terrible! And I certainly did not want to belong to Slytherin house, otherwise I'll be with bastards like Malfoy, and idiots like Snape."

"Padfoot." Moony scolded, butting in before an argument could start.

"The point is, Hermione, people can change. It's rare in cases like Sirius and Draco Malfoy, but it can happen." Prongs said sincerely. "What did he do to make you think he had rejected his father's ways?"

Hermione blushed, and looked away. Sirius rolled his eyes. "I can't believe it. The girl has gone and fallen in love with Draco Malfoy."

"I'm not!" Hermione protested loudly. Her eyes widened as she realised how loudly she had said it, and she cowered in her seat, a frightened look on her face.

Snape recognised it, and sighed. "We're not going to hurt you, Hermione. We're not like them."

"She thinks we were gonna beat her for talking like that?" Prongs asked, horrified. "You thought that?" He asked, the question directed at Hermione.

"Old habits die hard." Hermione said softly.

Prongs huffed, and looked out of the window. "The sooner we get you out of that place, the better."

"What has he said to you…what has he done to make you," Sirius winced, "_fall in love with him._"

"I'm not in love with him." Hermione corrected. "I have never been: that I know for sure. There was just…I don't know. It's kind of difficult to explain."

"We being grown men sure does not help that." Moony said insightfully. Hermione smiled wryly. "You need a woman friend for this. This is out of our territory."

"You're a smart girl Hermione." Prongs said thoughtfully. "You got your head on your shoulders. When the time comes, you'll know what to do."

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Next chapter shall be up soon. Thanks as always to your wonderful reviews! I'm so glad that you're sticking with this for the time being! Till next time…


	13. Late Night Meetings

Chapter 13.

Progress was made, and Hermione was able to meet a few more members of the Order, and several new ones. One of them was a woman called Tonks, no more than a few years older than Hermione herself. She was a Metamorphmagus, and a valuable member to the Order. Hermione also met Ron's family, and Molly Weasley had embraced her tearfully, telling her how much Hermione's friendship had meant to Ron.

Ginny Weasley was Ron's little sister, just a year younger than Hermione. She was a tall, thin girl, and had a fierce temper. She never talked to Hermione, and left the room whenever Ron was brought up. Charlie and Bill were Ron's older brothers, and Hermione vaguely remembered hearing about them from Ron. They were alike in many ways, both reckless and daring, and both ready to die to protect their family. Arthur Weasley, Ron's father was silent the majority of the time, and only spoke to Hermione once or twice, asking what it was like to grow up Muggle. Hermione's answers to that were short and abrupt; she did not want to talk about her childhood, about her parents who were now dead. Consequently, Arthur barely muttered a word.

Another week passed, and the slaves were starting to get restless. They wanted to know when they were going to get out. Rumours of resistance travelled to Voldemort, and security was much tighter around the castle, and it was harder for Hermione to get out of the place with Snape.

However, they managed, and the first stage of the plan took place late one night.

Hermione lay on the floor, her eyes open and alert, a blanket covering her clothes. Around her lay a dozen slaves, young ones, all awake, even though it was late at night.

And then she heard it. A small tap on the window, and Hermione bolted upright and hurried towards it. She opened it slowly, and whispered "Phoenix" into the night air.

"Step out of the way." Whispered a familiar voice. Hermione stepped away from the window, and breeze swept past her. She heard something land next to her, and then two men uncovered themselves from invisibility cloaks. Sirius and Prongs.

"Let's go." Prongs said quietly, and Hermione beckoned to the twelve waiting girls. Hurriedly, they stood up, and made their way to them. Quietly, all fifteen of them made their way towards the door, and Sirius whispered a chant, and the door swung open, making no sound. Waiting for them outside were Bill, Snape, Arthur and Moony. Hurriedly, they all made their way through the corridors, stunning any Death Eaters that were on duty.

Before they knew it, they were at a statue of Gregory the Smarmy. Prongs muttered an incantation, and the statue swivelled away from the floor, showing a dark deep tunnel. Bill went in first, and one by one, the girls followed him, giving Hermione a brief smile before they left.

They were down to three girls, when a bang was heard near them. The girls gasped, and the adults immediately pointed their wands at the direction of the noise. Hermione ushered the girls to hurry up, and even quicker than before, they climbed into the tunnel.

Hermione turned her attention onto the noise, and a small speck of light that floated towards them. Hermione could not see the conjuror of the light. There was another bump as the person bumped into the wall, and the light went out.

"Shit." An annoyed voice said, and Hermione gasped.

"It's Draco." She whispered, and Snape stepped forward to greet Malfoy. Hermione made to follow him, but Prongs stepped in front of her, protecting her. "Prongs, don't." She whispered, annoyed.

"You're staying with me Hermione, no arguments." Prongs said firmly, his arm around her shoulders, and Hermione did not bother to argue.

"Mister Malfoy?" Snape asked, lighting his wand. The light was stronger than Draco's, and it lit up Snape and Draco. Thankfully, the light did not reach the crowd of people huddling by the statue. "Mister Malfoy, are you drunk?" Snape asked in disgust, and Hermione's eyes fell on the bottle of firewhisky in Draco's hand.

"No." Draco said roughly.

Snape groaned, and held out his hand. "Give me the bottle, Malfoy."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "You can't tell me what to do. I'm better than you." He slurred.

"I am your teacher, Malfoy, and I demand that you give me that bottle."

Draco smirked, and leant against the wall. "No." Draco hiccupped.

"You should get back to bed, Malfoy."

"No. I'm like my father; I can do whatever I want." He replied, childishly.

"You are nothing like your father, Malfoy." Snape said irritably.

"She said I was." Draco replied sadly. Hermione closed her eyes briefly, understanding.

"Who?" Snape asked.

"Hermione." Draco said. He hiccupped. (Sirius looked at Hermione, an eyebrow raised.)

"She's just a slave." Snape said roughly. "Her opinion does not matter."

"Does to me." Draco said quietly.

Snape sighed. Prongs' arm had dropped from Hermione shoulders, and now, Hermione was the one in front.

"Go back to bed, Malfoy." Snape ordered.

"Can't." He hiccupped.

"Why not."

"She didn't come today."

"Who?"

"_Hermione_."

Snape groaned, thoroughly irritated by the teenager. "She is my slave now; you will be assigned another one."

Draco looked up at Snape, glaring at him. "Why is she yours? Why not mine?"

"I do not know, neither do I care. And you should not either."

"Too late." Draco said, laughing drunkenly. ("What have you done to this boy?" Sirius whispered in Hermione's ear, amused.)

"I suggest you get to bed, Malfoy." Snape said, pulling Draco up.

"Fine, fine." Draco said irritably. He hiccupped. He handed the bottle to Snape. "I'm not even tired."

"Go to your room then!"

"Fine, fine." Draco stalked off away from Hermione, into the shadows. Snape sighed irritably, and skulked back to the statue, where Hermione stood in shock.

"I'd say he misses you." Sirius said, amused.

Snape ignored Sirius, and beckoned for the others to go down the tunnel. Arthur went first, then Moony and then Sirius. Before Prongs went, he turned to Hermione, and placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "I think you should stay away from him for a while." He said, concerned.

"Don't worry about me." Hermione said, smiling softly.

Prongs narrowed his eyes. "I do. I know what that kid is like, well; I know what his father was capable of. Lucius Malfoy was a powerful wizard, and if Draco was taught by both Lucius and Voldemort..." He shuddered. "My name is James Potter, and I killed Lucius Malfoy. And if he hurts you, I'll kill Draco too." James said, before disappearing into the tunnel.

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Dumdumditz23: Hermione and Draco are sixteen.

Snazzysnez: hehe, no Sirius/Hermione in this story. I know how much you would love that ;)

Thanks so much for the reviews people; it gives me a happy that people are still reading this. As for the rating going up, the reason why it might is because of the abuse and violence in the later chapters. There is no smut. I don't write it. So if this is ok with my readers, than say so. If its not, then say, because if you don't, I will put it up.

Sorry for the shortness of the chapter. Please review!


	14. Promises Made

As always, thank you so much for the reviews. You have many questions, but hopefully they will be answered by the end of the story, and I'm hoping to get some flashbacks in, showing how Voldemort actually took over. But you're just gonna have to wait a little while.

This chapter is dedicated to snazzysnez! Happy birthday sneha! This is for you hun!

Chapter 14.

Hermione did not heed to James' warning, and the next day, arrived at Draco's room with fresh sheets. The entire castle was buzzing about the fact that a dozen slaves had disappeared overnight. Hermione had been threatened repeatedly, but as of yet, no one had laid a hand on her, to tell them what had happened. She had returned to what used to be the Gryffindor tower late last night with Snape next to her, and she had immediately returned to bed. Part of her wished that she could leave with those girls who left a few minutes before, but she knew that she had to stay till the end. She had important things to do before the end.

She was therefore in a subdued mood when she arrived at Draco's, and knocked on the door. When no one answered, she let herself in and stripped the bed, replacing it with new ones. She cleaned up the empty bottles that were strewn on the floor and table, and was busy wiping the table when Draco walked in. He stopped at the doorway, surprised to see her working quietly. Hermione did not turn around. She did not acknowledge his presence.

She heard him close the door behind him, and drop his bag on the floor. She heard his footsteps sound on the floor, coming towards her, and she stared into the blazing fire. He stopped a few feet behind her, unsure whether to speak.

She continued to clean.

He stretched out his hand, taking in her appearance, memorizing it, in fear that she would leave and never come back. His fingertips brushed her bare arm, and she stilled, her heart beating faster and faster. His fingers trailed down her arm, setting it on fire as his fingers met hers.

She turned to him then, as his hand caught hers. They were inches apart now, and Hermione gasped at the sorrow in Draco's eyes. His free hand rose up to her cheek, and cupped it gently, brushing her lips gently with his thumb, his eyes fixed on her lips, remembering what he did to her weeks before.

His hand travelled to the back of her neck, tangling itself in her hair, and she leant forward, leant into his embrace, into the warmth and shelter that he created by just being there. Her head rested on his chest, his arms enveloped around her waist, holding her close, holding her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him, holding her as if he never wanted to let go.

Everything fell away, all the bad things that had happened to her and that were happening disappeared, all the pain and worry went along with it, and it was just the two of them, in their own little world.

_When the time comes, you'll know what to do._

That was what James had said, and it was true. Now was the time, and Hermione knew what she had to do. She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to be with Draco, she wanted him to hold her like this. She did not care that it was wrong, and it was not allowed. She did not care that he was the son of what used to be one of the most dangerous men in the wizarding world; all she cared was that _this felt right._

She looked up at him then, a small smile on her face, lighting her eyes. He looked down at her, and brought his mouth down to meet hers, a light, soft kiss, unlike the one she had received a few weeks ago from him.

They broke apart, but Hermione still held onto him, savouring his warmth. "I'm sorry for what I did." He said softly. "I don't know why I did it."

"Forget it." Hermione said shortly. "I have."

"Good." He said in relief. "That's good."

Hermione sighed happily, burying her face into his clothes. She could feel Draco's fingers run through her hair, stroking it gently, and she shivered. Draco cuddled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her.

"If anyone comes in here, my bad boy reputation is so screwed." He commented absently.

"I think that won't be the only thing that is screwed." Hermione replied quietly. Draco was silent, they both knew what would happen if they were found together.

"Don't think about that." He said after a while.

Hermione nodded, pushing back the negative thoughts. "I saw you yesterday."

"Where?"

"At night, in one of the corridors. You were talking to Snape."

Hermione felt his hand still on her hair, his body tensing. She looked up at him, curious eyes falling onto his face. "What?"

"Why were you there?" Draco asked stiffly.

"I-I just w-was." Hermione stuttered. She couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet anyway.

"Why was Snape also there?"

"He didn't hurt me, if that's what you're thinking." Hermione said. Draco looked pointedly at her.

"He's a Death Eater." He stated.

"He's not like them." Hermione said firmly.

Draco snorted. "And Voldemort enjoys tea parties every Sunday." He said sarcastically.

"It's true!" Hermione protested. "Well, not about the tea parties bit. But Snape is different. He doesn't hurt me."

"I'll just feel more comfortable if you didn't see any Death Eaters."

"You think I have a choice? You think I _want _to spend time with people who kill girls like me for fun? Draco, my life is very different from yours. I just can't ask Voldemort to only serve you, whatever he wants, I have to do."

Hermione untangled herself from Draco and picked up her basket with the sheets in. "I should go."

"You're mad at me." Draco said dejectedly.

Hermione turned to look at him, and quickly kissed him. "No, I'm not." Hermione said when they parted. "You just have to learn that you can't look after me all the time." She said, kissing him again.

"I'll always look after you." Draco said, as Hermione approached the door. "Whether you like it or not. I'll look after you till I die."

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please review!


	15. Trop Fatigue

Chapter 15.

Following the first escape, every couple of nights, another dozen girls would slip past the Death Eaters and escape, most times without Hermione's accompaniment. The number of slaves was fast depleting, and only the older ones were left. Conditions for them were worse; they had to take over the jobs, and were tortured on a regular basis for information. Thankfully, no one suspected Hermione, except Flint, who followed her and watched her like a hawk for the majority of the time. He did not trust her, and Hermione knew it, it was evident on his face that he did not.

Draco was not having a better time. Voldemort blamed him and his fellow Death Eaters for the slaves escape, and Draco was taken out of his classes, to be taught advanced Dark Arts by Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Junior. His concentration on his lessons was diminishing every time he had one, because of Hermione.

He felt that he was betraying her when he learnt these curses and spells,because she was tortured with these curses every week. After a few months, and hours of training, he could use two of the Unforgivable curses; Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra. He of course, did not tell Hermione this. He knew that she would be repulsed by what he could do, and Draco cared too much about Hermione to hurt her. The couple had gotten into a few fights lately, their relationship was strained, for whatever reason, Draco did not know. But he cared about her, more than anybody else, and would do anything to be with her. Anything.

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For several weeks, Hermione did not see James, Sirius and Remus (who had by then, told her his real name). Hermione decided one day to slip out of Hogwarts castle to see them, but she knew that Flint would follow her. She took several fake turns and paths in an effort to lose him. Positive that she had, she hurried to the small old cottage that the three older men were saying in for a few weeks, hoping that they were there.

The cottage itself was surrounded by thick tree and bushes, hiding it from view. It was covered in vines and ivy, the windows were boarded up and the garden was unkempt. It was quite far away from any civilisation, and it took Hermione quite a while to get there.

She approached the house in caution, knocking twice on the door. She checked her surroundings for any Death Eaters, and, satisfied, pushed open the door. The heavy wooden door opened with a creak, and Hermione darted inside, closing the door behind her.

She could feel the magic of this place, the amount of magic used to conceal this house was tangible, the wards against non-order members were in place, and she thanked Remus silently for being so good at Charms.

She felt a ripple of magic go through her and outwards, and she knew that the residents of this house had been alerted to her presence.

Sure enough, bounding down the stairs a few seconds later was Remus, his wand in his hand. At the sight of her, he paused on the steps, and sighed with relief.

"Hermione!" He said ecstatically, enveloping her in a hug. "I've been so worried! Are you alright? Have you been hurt? I've seen Snape recently, but he said he hasn't seen you either. Where have you been?"

Hermione laughed at the flood of questions, but before she could answer, Sirius and James arrived in the hallway, and Sirius swept Hermione into a hug, James hanging back. Sirius asked the same questions Remus had, but with more swear words regarding her disappearance. Hermione laughed it off, and when she confirmed that she was fine and had not been too terribly hurt, Sirius and Remus ushered her into the kitchen. James was silent, leaning against the wall, his eyes searching her happy face. Hermione was aware of his scrutinizing gaze, but tried to take no notice of it as Remus poured her some tea.

She stirred the liquid diligently, listening as Sirius excitedly told her about the progress that was being made, and the steps to release the prisoner from inside the castle, who was apparently important in Voldemort's destruction. She listened carefully, the smile that had been present for many months still on her face, and James did not miss this. In fact, when Hermione laughed for what seemed the fourth time, James glared at her, strode forward, grabbed her arm and pulled her up the stairs, ignoring the protests belonging to Sirius and Remus.

He flung her into one of the rooms upstairs and closed the door, locking it. A few seconds later, Sirius pounded on the door. "James, what the hell are you doing? Let us in!"

"Leave us alone!" James shouted back.

"We can unlock this door; you know very well that we can." Said the rational voice of Remus.

"Go back downstairs you two! We'll be there in a minute!" James replied angrily.

Hermione could hear them retreat down the stairs, Sirius muttering angrily to himself. James was looking at the door, making sure that they had truly gone. His black hair messily hung in front of his glasses, and when he turned back to Hermione, his hazel eyes burned furiously.

"I told you not to see him again." James growled, taking a step towards Hermione.

Hermione shrunk into the wall, fear and confusion mixed on her face. "What-I don't know-"

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about." James said angrily. "I told you not to see him again, I warned you didn't I? And that's where you've been all this time, with _him_, with Draco Malfoy."

Hermione was silent; she could not take her eyes off his angry face.

"We've been so worried Hermione, _I've _been so worried. I thought you were dead for crying out loud! Do you know how much I wanted to get into that castle and find you?! Did you know how much I wanted to do that?! If he's hurt you, I swear to Merlin, I'll _fucking kill him_." James growled, his eyes burning with so much hate that Hermione gasped.

"He's diff-"

"Do not tell me that he is different Hermione! Merlin, how can you be so blind!" James shouted passionately. "He's just like them!"

"No he's-"

"Yes he is. Do you know what Snape told me a few weeks ago? He told me that Draco Malfoy has been taking Dark Arts classes from Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Junior. Do you know who they are, Hermione?"

"They tortured the Longbottoms into insanity." Hermione said tearfully.

"Not only that. They did it to Fred and George Weasley too."

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth, and she collapsed against the wall, sliding down to rest on the floor. James glanced at her, running a hand through his hair. He sighed, and sat next to Hermione, his head in his hands.

"I didn't know." Hermione said tearfully.

"I know." James said, glancing at her. "The reason why I'm telling you this is because I don't want you to get hurt." He sighed, and looked straight ahead of him at the door, his eyes filling with tears. "My wife, before she died, was pregnant. Her name was Lily, and she was the most beautiful person in the world. To me anyway. When she got pregnant, we were ecstatic. Sirius, Remus, and another one of our friends, Peter, were ecstatic. Anyway, she had the child. His name was Harry, and he looked exactly like me." He smiled in remembrance. Hermione gazed at him intently. "But when he was only a couple of months old, we were betrayed. Peter turned out to be a Death Eater. And he killed my wife, and my son." Tears fell down his cheeks; James did not bother to wipe them away. "It was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I lost my wife, child and friend, all in the same night. I never thought Peter would do something like that. He had been my best friend for years. Looks can be deceiving." James sighed, and looked at Hermione, whose tears were flowing freely. "Harry would have been your age if he lived. You two would have gotten on so well, I just know it." He smiled, and Hermione took his hand, squeezing it gently, suddenly feeling like the adult, instead of the child. "The reason why I'm telling you this is that you are more than just a friend. You are more than just an ally. You're like a daughter to me. A child that had a chance to grow up, unlike my own. And even though Malfoy says he's good, and isn't a Death Eater. He could be lying. And I want you to be prepared for that, if it happens. Because I don't want to see you get hurt. Not in the way I have."

Hermione was silent; her mind processing everything James had just told her. It was no surprise to her that he was so reserved and tended to daydream, having gone through such an ordeal like that. To lose everything in one moment, Hermione knew what that felt like. When Voldemort had taken over, she had lost all her friends and family, her life and her childhood. She knew what it was like to lose everything at once, to have everything ripped away from you in a heartbeat.

"Tell me you'll end it." James said, in a desperate voice. "Please. Before it's too late."

He glanced at Hermione, who stared at an invisible mark on the door, avoiding his gaze. He sighed, the sound echoing in the almost bare room.

"It is too late isn't it?"

"I don't love him James. But I do care about him, and if I'm not with him....I'll go insane in there. He's the only thing, the only one keeping me alive in that castle."

"Hermione, I'm not trying to be the bad person here. But Draco Malfoy will kill you. Whether he does it personally, or you do something stupid and risky for him. And I know you're not like that, but...sometimes, love is blind. And love, can make you do the craziest things. And I know what you two have is not love...yet. So please, stop this, before it gets dangerous."

"How long?" Hermione asked quietly.

"How long what?"

She swallowed, a lump rising in her throat. "How long has he been learning the Dark Arts from Lestrange?"

"Five months. Almost six." James said shortly.

Hermione gasped, bile rising in her throat. Her eyes watered, and she gasped for breath, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. James grabbed her arms, whispering soothing words into her ear, his placid voice calming her down.

She could not believe it. Draco had been learning Dark Arts for almost half a year. Who knew how much he could have learnt...what he could be capable of? For many years now, Hermione had hated people who learnt the Dark Arts, people who used it...death Eaters. And the first person she trusted for the first time in a long while was turning out to be one of those people. A Death Eater. A killer.

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An hour later, and Hermione was heading back to Hogwarts, her tears dried, her face set into grim determination. She marched into the castle, stormed up the stairs, and rapped loudly on Draco's door.

He opened it swiftly, and smiled genuinely when he saw her. He ushered her in, and she entered stormily. He shut the door behind her, making the mistake to not check who was in the corridor, watching the door.

"Hermione-"

"You lied." Hermione interrupted coldly, her arms crossed in front of her chest, staring at Draco stonily.

He stood where he was, the smile disappearing off his face at the tone of her voice. "About what?"

"Who's Bellatrix Lestrange, Draco? Have you heard of Barty Crouch Junior?" Hermione demanded, not missing the slight flinch belonging to Draco at those names.

"How do you-"

"How do I know those names? They are famous for torturing the Longbottoms and the Weasley twins into insanity, but do you know what really makes me upset? Do you know? You were getting tuition from them!"

"Hermione, I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what, Draco?" Hermione asked tearfully. "Sorry about lying to me? Sorry about learning from them? Sorry that you are currently in training to be the next fucking Dark Lord?!"

Draco flinched at her language, and took a tentative step towards her.

The sun was setting outside, casting a pinkish orange glow in the sky. Draco's and Hermione's shadows mingled together on the stone floor, but they could not have been more apart in reality.

Hermione sighed, pushing back her hair from her face. "Tell me the truth Draco. What have you been doing for the last five months?" Hermione asked dejectedly.

"Learning the Dark Arts from Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Junior, under Voldemort's instruction." Draco replied blankly.

"I don't care if it's under Voldemort's instruction or not, Draco!" Hermione yelled.

The clock on the wall chimed seven, but its alarms were not heard, were not paid attention to.

"I didn't have a choice!" Draco yelled back, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"I can try to overlook your learning, Draco, I really can. But the fact is, you lied to me. You _lied _to me. Didn't you think I had a right to know?"

"I knew it would hurt you." Draco said lamely.

"So what do you think now? Do you think I'm angry now? Do you think I'm upset? Did you not think that it would be worse if you just left it for it to come out in the open?"

"I did not know what to do!" Draco yelled back heatedly. "Do you think I didn't want to tell you?"

"Then what stopped you?"

"Like I said, I didn't want to hurt you." Draco said truthfully.

"Well you did anyway." Hermione spat.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione stared at him, and sighed. She ran a hand through her hair, making it even messier than before. "I can't trust you." Hermione said quietly, so quietly that Draco had to strain himself to hear her.

But he heard anyway.

"What?" Draco breathed.

She shook her head, looking away from him, as if looking at his face made it harder for her. "I can't do this anymore. It's too hard. So much is going on right now...I don't need to be worrying about you, and what you're up to."

"You don't have to!" Draco shouted desperately, stepping towards her and grasping her shoulders. "All those things that I'm learning...I don't want to learn it! I'm not like them! You don't have anything to worry about, Hermione!"

Hermione bit her lip, the things James had said to her ringing in her head. She cared about Draco, it was true...but she had too much to do, everything that the Order was doing was taking up almost all her time and it required her full attention. She could not do that if she was with him.

"Let go of me." Hermione said in a low voice. Draco looked quizzically at her, but did not let go. "Let me go." She said again, in the same low voice.

He did, stepping back from her. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, he had not hurt her, but she did not look at him.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said. "But I can't."

Hermione stepped around him and quickly left the room, leaving Draco upset and alone.

As Hermione left the room, shutting the door behind her and running down the corridor, tears flying behind her, Flint stood out from his corner, his view of the door perfectly clear, a small, wicked smile on his face.

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I'm so glad you all like it, and are still reading! Yay, I'm happy! I really appreciate the reviews, so please keep them coming!

So things look pretty bad at the moment for our hero and heroine, but no fear, 'cos things are going to get even worse ;)

And here is where the rating goes up. The rating is going up for language and violence only. There will be no smut in this story, 'cos I don't write it. And when I say violence, I mean one really really bad thing, but it won't be terribly graphic, it's just the idea of it, that's all.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and please review!


	16. Putting it into Practise

---Attention!--- Adult themes ahead, strong language, torture and rape! This chapter is not for little kids! Beware!

Chapter 16.

Hermione hurried down the back hallways of Hogwarts, furiously wiping at her eyes. _I won't cry!_ She thought furiously to herself. _I won't cry damnit!_

Logically, she knew that what she had done was right. Without him, everything would be easier, her head would be cleared from endless thoughts of him, and everything would be easier for her. Times were changing now, with the impending downfall of Voldemort, her attention needed to be on that, not on Draco.

However, even though her brain was saying this, there was an uncomfortable strain in her chest every time she thought of his name. She could not get his face out of his mind, his look of utter betrayal, of loneliness and hatred because of that.

Hermione stopped in her tracks, sighing in disbelief. She was torn. She felt she was being ripped down the middle, half of her wanted to go back to Draco, comfort him, be with him, kiss him, but the other half wanted to go to James, to Sirius and to Remus and carry on with what they were doing. How could she question the fate of muggle-borns? How could she compare death for muggle borns and blood traitors, to a man that she loved? It was immoral, it was wrong…

_She loved him. _

She had just thought it, and it sounded so perfect, so right. _She loved him. _It had been different before, she had been scared, ashamed of what she felt, confused about her feelings, but now, everything was clear.

_She loved him._

It was her mantra, the thing that saved her, the words that stopped her from falling down into a bottomless pit; it was to stop her from falling. He was there to stop her from falling.

She turned on her heel, her hair whipping the air around her, a bright smile on her face, shining behind her dampened skin.

And then her smile faded as another thought crossed her mind.

_It too late._

It was too late. She had already cut him off, already said no, and already betrayed him. Would he ever take her back? Would he want to? She had left him alone in the world; he had no one else, not his alive mother, his dead father, his brainless friends. He had no one. Before, he had her and she him. They were a united front, a refuge for each other after a horrific day. They would comfort each other, make all the bad memories go away…and she had just ruined that.

_What have I done?_

You should have figured it out before, a snippy voice said at the back of her mind. You lose him, and then decide that you love him? You should have figured this out before.

And then another voice rang out in the corridor, one that did not belong to her.

"All alone, slave?"

The voice echoed in the dark walls, and Hermione squinted, trying to find the face of the speaker.

"Who's there?"

"You speak rather confidently for a slave, Granger."

And then he was in front of her, long floppy black hair in front of his cool blue grey eyes, leering at her. He took her arm roughly, and pulled her to him. She yelped in surprise.

"Where are your manners, Granger?" He said, with the knowing smirk on his face.

"Gone away for the weekend." She spat in return, and Flint backhanded her across the face.

Hermione whimpered, her cheek burning from the hit.

"I think we should teach you what it means to respect your superiors, Granger." Flint said coldly, his grey eyes burning maliciously. He pulled her up to him, his face inches from her, and Hermione could not help but tremble in fear. "I saw you." He whispered into her ear, his voice making her skin crawl.

"Saw me where?" Hermione asked quietly, with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"With him."

Hermione felt cold, she felt like she was being plunged into a pool of ice cold water. She couldn't breathe; her body was trembling in fear. _He couldn't have seen…_Hermione thought desperately, pleading silently with whatever higher being there was up there that he wasn't talking about what she thought he was.

He smirked, sensing the anxiousness grow inside of her. He pushed her forward, and Hermione felt the tip of his wand prodding her in her back. "Move. You try something, and I'll kill you." He instructed, and Hermione nodded, walking down the corridor, Flint behind her, his wand still attached to her back.

He guided her through corridors, up stairs and down them, but Hermione knew where they were going. The lump of worry in her throat that had been growing inside of her since she first met Flint a few minutes ago was constricting her breathing, and Hermione felt herself taking short, sharp breaths.

Death Eaters walked past them, some in their standard black robes, some not, but no one paid attention to the twenty-something Death Eater and the teenage slave. No one cared. Things like that were normal to them, they did not care what Flint would do to Hermione. They would not spend one moment thinking about it.

It was pointless to cry out for help. It was pointless to try and escape what Hermione knew was coming, something bad and something hurtful. Something that would change everything.

They arrived at his door, and Flint rapped noisily on the hard frame, removing his wand and instead, gripping her shoulders and upper arms hurtfully. Hermione winced, but would not give Flint the satisfaction of crying out. She wouldn't.

The door opened, revealing Draco, his blond hair mussed on the top of his head. His already pale skin drained at the sight of the pair, and he stepped back from the door, offering them silently to come in. He knew that they couldn't escape this. He had to let them in.

Hermione was pushed forward into the room by Flint, and as she fell to the floor, Draco had to stop himself from catching her. Hermione was sprawled on the floor, her hair and clothes askew, her forehead dripping with anxious sweat.

The door slammed to a close, and Flint pointed his wand at Draco. Draco's hand immediately went to his own wand, but as soon as his fingers were clasped around it, Flint yelled 'Expelliarmus' and Draco were thrown backwards, his wand now in Flint's hand.

"I've been watching you for a long time, Granger." Flint said, twisting her name like it was something he had stepped on. "And you, mister Malfoy, although, you may not have known it."

Hermione twisted around on the floor, her hair covering her face, but she could make out Draco's expression, and she could tell that he hadn't.

"What has this got to do with _her?_" Draco said, snorting in disbelief, looking at Hermione as if she was nothing. But in his eyes, she could tell that he did not believe in what he was saying. He stood up, and leaned against the wall.

"Quite a lot, actually." Flint said. "I've known you for a long time, Malfoy. We went to school together."

"I suppose that makes us best friends." Draco said, sarcastically.

Flint smirked. "Rude, as usual."

"Observant, as usual."

"I'm here to help you, Malfoy." Flint admitted, edging closer to Malfoy. "But I can't do that if you don't co-operate."

"Why would you want to help me?" Draco asked icily.

"Because of 'er." Flint said, gesturing to Hermione, who was leaning against the legs of a chair, her knees drawn up to her chest.

"She has nothing to do with me." Draco said quickly.

"Really?" Flint asked, arching a brow. "Let's see." He added quietly. He turned to Hermione, and pointed his wand at her. _"Crucio."_

Not for the first time, unbearably pain wracked Hermione's body. Her body fell to the floor hard, and she shook with pain, her mouth open wide, and an expression of unbearable torment on her face.

Draco stood behind Flint, torn about what to do. He could not seem to avert his gaze from the convulsing body of the person that meant more to him than anyone else. Flint glanced back at him, his wand still pointed at Hermione, the curse still making its terrifying mark on her.

"Going to do anything?" He asked.

Draco paused, looking back at Hermione, whose lip was bleeding from biting down on it too hard. Her face was white. He looked back at Flint. "No."

Flint smirked, and released his hold on the curse. Hermione lay twitching a few feet away from Draco.

"I can do that again." Flint threatened, his cold eyes on Draco, watching for any sign of hate. "You know I could."

"So?" Draco said casually. "I don't like the bitch. She's a mudblood."

"Good answer." Flint said, looking carefully at Draco. "But I think you're lying."

"I'm not." Draco said stiffly.

"Really?" Flint asked, and once again, pointed his wand at Hermione and uttered _"Crucio."_

Once again, Hermione's mouth opened in a silent scream, her knees drew up to her body as the curse worked its way through her again.

Draco watched, his fists clenching in anger. Flint looked back at him again, and grinned as he saw Draco's expression. And then, before Draco knew what he was doing, he jumped on Flint, knocking him to the ground. This released Hermione of the curse, and Draco found himself pummeling Flint on the floor, banging Flint's head on the floor, flecks of blood spitting up to Draco's pale face.

But Flint was much bigger than Draco, and he threw him off him, standing up, laughing. His wiped his mouth free of the flowing blood, and touched the cut on his forehead.

"So it's true." Flint said, disgusted. "You are in love with the mudblood."

"Yes." Draco said stonily, glaring at him, ready to attack him once again. "I'll kill you if you touch her again."

Flint smirked. "Oh really?" He quickly whipped out his wand, and yelled _"Includus!"_

Draco found himself behind a magical barrier, and when he touched it, he received a jolt that wracked through his body. He was helpless to stop Flint, or help Hermione.

"_Crucio!"_ Flint yelled again, and again Hermione was forced through unbearable pain. Tears leaked through her eyes, but soon, Flint stopped, and faced Draco. "I could do this all day, Malfoy." He said evilly. "But frankly, I can't be fucked. You're going to have to learn a lesson. You say you love her? Well look what you have done to her! Just look at her for Merlin's sakes." He said, gesturing at Hermione's trembling body. Draco looked away. Flint smirked. "You think things can't get much worse for her, can it?" Flint asked. "But it can. It can get much worse."

He turned away from Draco and walked up to Hermione, kicking her in the stomach. "You see, she's powerless against me. She's just another mudblood. She can't stop what I'm going to do her. She couldn't stop what happened to her before." Flint looked back at Draco. "And both of you are going to wish that you could stop me now."

Flint knelt down; taking Hermione's shaking hand and pulled her hands high above her head. Hermione let out a gasp of fright and pain. And then, to her and Draco's horror, Flint pushed her legs apart.

"Flint…no." Draco said, his voice lost somewhere in his throat. Flint didn't listen, but opened his robe. "Flint, don't do this!" Draco yelled, as Hermione squirmed away from Flint's touch, kicking and punching at him as much as she could. But she wasn't strong enough.

Her ears blocked out Draco's desperate yelling, she could only feel her hot tears, warming her ice cold skin before everything started, before a pain like she had never experienced enveloped her.

Her body became rigid, fresh tears flowing from her eyes as the pain took over her body. Her vision blurred to blackness, the sound of Draco's yelling and Flint's grunting muffled in her ears.

_I won't cry out... I won't cry out._

It was a mantra she had adopted so many times before, but Hermione had never been so set on anything in her life. This was a different type of pain, physically and emotionally scarring, she knew that, Flint knew that, so she would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream in pain.

_I won't scream…I won't scream…_

And finally when he released her, after what seemed like hours of unbearable torture, she felt his body weight lift off her, and she lay on the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest, bile rising in her stomach. She forced it down, pain still wracking through her body. She was immune to the sounds around her; she didn't care what happened to Flint, as long as that never happened to her again.

She slowly drifted in and out of consciousness as Flint tortured her yet again, her body convulsing from the curse and from the abuse he had given her.

And as her trembling increased, the shield around Draco was lifted, and he tackled Flint to the ground forcefully.

And as her pulse slowed, somewhere in the room around her, Draco had reached his wand and had uttered a curse.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

And as Hermione finally found herself enveloped into blackness, Flint's dead body hit the floor.

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As always, thanks for the reviews! You guys so rock!

Yes, that is the only R rated thing in the entire story. So yeah, no more of that. I hope this chapter is ok, because I spent ages writing it as it is very important chapter. So yeah, I hope you like it.

Please review!


	17. Desperation

My sympathies and heart goes out to the six Asian countries that have been affected by the tsunami a few days ago.

Chapter 17.

As soon as Flint hit the ground with a sickening thud, his eyes still open and staring unseeing at the ceiling, Draco rushed to Hermione, whose eyes were closed.

"Hermione?" He yelled, wiping the tears of anguish from his eyes, shaking her body furiously. "Fuck, Hermione wake up!"

Despite his demands, Hermione did not stir, and Draco sat back on his heels, taking her hand. He wiped again at his eyes, ignoring Flint on the floor behind him. "What do I do, Hermione?" He asked, desperately, placing his head on her chest. "Tell me what to do."

He wasn't quite sure how long he sat there for, his hand desperately clutching hers, quietly listening to the sound of her heart thumping underneath her breast. It was the only comfort he had, that she was breathing. He thanked Merlin for giving Hermione life.

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Hermione was not quite sure how long she had been unconscious, but when she woke up, she saw that the sky outside was black, stars twinkling brightly in the velvet.

Something heavy was lying on top of her, and Hermione gasped in fright, thinking that Flint was still on top of her, still abusing her. She closed her eyes firmly, her pulse racing, and the weight on top of her disappeared.

"Hermione?" A strangled sob penetrated her ears, and her eyes flew open. She had never been so happy to see Draco before, and she managed a small smile, trying to ignore the tremors that were starting up again. Draco squeezed her hand, and deftly ducked down and kissed her dry mouth, whispering words of apologies that did not quite reach her ears.

"Sna…" Hermione whispered against his mouth, and Draco pulled back from her. "Snape…"

"What about him?" Draco's eyebrows furrowed.

"Get him." She said through convulses. Draco's eyes widened. "Do it." Hermione instructed, biting her lip, trying to fight back the shakes that wracked her body. Every inch of her body hurt; the lower part of her torso especially. Tears of pain and confusion rolled down her face and dampened her already wet hair. "Please."

Draco nodded, giving her another kiss. Her mouth shook under his lips, and he left quickly, taking his wand with him.

Hermione drew her knees up to her chest and rolled onto her right side. She gasped. Flint's limp, dead body faced her, gray empty eyes boring into hers. "Bastard." She whispered through her shakes, each of them getting worse and worse. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the face of her abuser any more.

She wasn't quite sure how long she lay there, but eventually she heard two pairs of footsteps pound across the floor, and then someone lift her up. Her mouth was parted open by someone, and hot liquid split onto her tongue, and slid down her throat.

"It should help the shaking stop." A voice she recognized said, and Hermione's eyes fluttered open.

"Hermione…" Draco's voice said desperately from behind her. "It's Snape. I did what you said, I got Snape." He said, his voice shaking. It amazed Hermione that Draco could sound so young and terrified, what with everything that he had seen.

"Snape," Hermione said, relieved. "James."

Above her, Snape nodded, and he stood up, pocketing the vial of potion.

"Who's James?" Draco asked, his fingers distractedly stroking her cheek.

"It does not matter." Snape said dismissively. "Come."

Draco carefully picked her up and cradled her in his arms.

"You will carry her?" Snape asked, frowning.

"I'm not letting her out of my sight." Was Draco's firm answer.

"It's a long way."

"I'll manage." He said firmly and Snape nodded, giving in.

Draco and Snape made their way silently through the corridors, towards the statue of Gregory, thankfully not bothered by anybody. Hermione's trembling stopped as they walked into the passage under the statue. Blood and other fluids sticky on the insides of her thighs and clothes.

Hermione's arms draped around Draco's neck, her face buried in his chest, trying to match her breathing with him. She knew that he was getting tired, and that he could not carry her all the way. Unfortunately, due to her dry mouth and the exhaustion, she did not say anything. Snape however, asked Draco repeatedly to stop carrying Hermione, but Draco always said no, and would carry on with renewed energy.

Trees surrounded them as they walked to the hidden house where James, Sirius and Remus were staying for the meantime. Hermione started to shiver because of the cold or because of something else, Draco could not tell, but he stopped and took of his robe and put it on top of her, not missing the sight of blood and other fluids on the bottom of her skirt. Draco gritted his teeth, he wasn't sorry for what he had done to Flint, and Snape had not said anything about it. In fact, Snape had not said much at all, he had been so shocked when Draco first told him, and even more so when he saw her. Draco had many unanswered questions about Snape, about this James person, and about where they were going, but all he cared about for the moment, was getting Hermione somewhere safe and warm.

Soon, the trees parted and in the middle of a clearing was a small cottage. Snape strode up to the door, but before knocking, turned to Draco.

"What I am about to reveal to you is very important." He said seriously. "You must promise me that you will not tell anyone else what you are about to see, and hear. From this moment on, you have been confirmed as wizard against Voldemort. Can you agree to these terms?"

"Yes." Draco said firmly, without a moment's hesitation. Snape nodded satisfied, and knocked three times, the first knock longer than the other two.

Almost at once, the door swung open, revealing James, his wand pointed at the newcomers. Fire light leaked out from behind him.

"Severus?" James asked, squinting his eyes, getting used to the dark. "What are you doing here?"

"She needs help!" Draco said desperately, stepping in front of Snape, Hermione still in his arms.

"Who are you?" James asked angrily, to both Draco and Snape, not seeing Hermione.

"Please help her." Draco pleaded again, removing the cloak that was on top of Hermione, revealing her pale sweaty face.

James' expression, previously angry, changed dramatically. His eyes widened and the colour drained from his face, leaving it white.

"C-come in." He stuttered, his eyes fixed on Hermione's unseeing ones. "Let me take her." He said, stepping towards Draco.

Draco glared at the older man, but hung on to Hermione. "I've got her."

"But-"James said almost desperately.

"I've got her." Draco repeated coldly.

James stared at Draco for a moment, sizing the younger man up. He nodded helplessly and gestured to the stairs.

Draco bounded up it, going into the first bedroom he saw and placing her carefully on it. James followed a moment later, then Snape, Remus and Sirius, who were called for their assistance. When the two men saw Hermione twitching and shivering on the bed, their expressions were almost as similar to James'.

The three left and started to bring Hermione things to make her calmer, potions, food-allsorts of things. Draco knelt next to Hermione's hand, her limp, sweaty hand placed in his larger one, his free hand gently stroking back her curls from her sweat drenched forehead.

James stood at the foot of the bed, his fists clenching angrily at every involuntary twitch that Hermione made. Draco glanced up at him; his eyebrow's furrowed, unaware that this was the man that killed his father.

James saw him looking, and looked at him, his face expressionless except for the utter devastation and anger evident in his eyes.

"Who are you?" Draco whispered, gently stroking Hermione's hand comfortably.

"James." He said gruffly, ignoring his friends as they worked around him. "You are Draco Malfoy, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you have anything to do with this?" James' voice shook with anger as he noticed the fluids on Hermione's clothes.

Around him, Remus, Sirius and Snape stopped working.

"No." Draco said firmly, a lump rising in his throat. "I had _nothing _to do with this." He looked back at Hermione, "I couldn't even help her." He whispered, feeling even more guilt and regret that he had not been able to do anything.

"Who did it?" Sirius asked.

"Marcus Flint." Draco said, his voice shaking with so much anger that Snape raised an eyebrow.

"The bastard." James whispered. "Where is he?"

"Dead." Draco said blankly. "I killed him."

The four men exchanged glances with each other, as Draco continued to stare blankly at Hermione, oblivious to the men's displeasure.

"Why?" Remus asked quietly.

"Why do you think?" Draco spat back. "He was gonna kill her. Was doing things as bad as. Couldn't let that bastard live."

The older men were dumbstruck, but Remus found his voice to give reason. "You are not the one to dish out punishments."

"Well its too late now, isn't it!" Draco said angrily, his voice rising. "We can't get him back, and frankly I want him dead. And I know you all do to. You would if you cared about her."

"He's right." James said quietly. "The kid's right. If I had a chance to kill Peter, you know I would. It doesn't matter that I'm not the person to dish out punishments. I would kill the bast-"

"James?" Hermione feeble voice interrupted him, quiet and weak compared to his strong and angry one, but James stopped anyway, and hurried to stand next to her bed, much to Draco's annoyance.

"Hermione, are you alright?" James asked worriedly.

"Drink this; it will help you talk easier." Snape said, brandishing a clear flask with a mucky brown liquid swirling inside. James helped Hermione sit up, and Snape gave her the potion.

"Better." Hermione said softly, grimacing at the taste. "Draco?"

"I'm here, Hermione." Draco said, standing up so she could see her.

Hermione smiled. "Good." She said weakly. "What happened?"

Draco swallowed nervously, aware of the older men's stares on him. "I sorted it out. Flint won't bother you again."

Hermione nodded peacefully, not bothering to stop and think about what he might mean.

"Hermione, from what Malfoy has told me, you have been subject to a large dose of the Cruciatus curse. I think it would be best for you if you sleep for awhile." Snape said, taking from Remus another bottle.

"But-"Hermione protested.

"Please, Miss Granger. It is for the best." Snape said, unscrewing the cap.

"I'll be here when you wake up." Draco said. Hermione thought for a moment, then nodded, and Snape handed the bottle to Draco, who gave her the potion. He kissed her lightly on the lips, but as soon as his eyes opened and he parted from her, she fell asleep.

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Sorry its been such a long time, I've been really busy and I will try to get the next chapter up sooner! Thank you all for your fantastic reviews!

Michele Malfoy: I don't think I'll alternate endings, but the next chapter is an entire flashback chapter hopefully. I never realized the thing about the dates! That's really cool, thanks for pointing that out!

I hope (if you celebrate) you had a good Christmas, and because I don't think I'll be updating before, happy New Year!

Please review!


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